Brothers
by Isalen
Summary: This is a continuation of the story 'Brothers' by Charliethemusketeerian. 'The four musketeers think they are on a simple mission and are laughing in the forest when they are unexpectedly ambushed. Who will make it out alive' A slightly edited version of the summary, there will still be quite a bit of hurt/comfort.
1. Chapter 1

They rode through the forest valley on horseback, soft crunching of leaves underfoot and birdsong cascading through the branches in a river of sweet music.

"Ah... how I love the placid song of birds. Seems to brighten up every mission." Aramis said dreamily, gazing around them.

He received a puzzled stare from Porthos and d'Artagnan, who were riding next to him.

"Are you okay?"

"Couldn't be better! What makes you say that? I am simply appreciating the wonders of nature" He commented with a pleased smile.

"Right" Porthos turned back to the path ahead of them. A rustling came from the trees above them and they saw a red squirrel perched precariously on a branch. Aramis went to look up just as an acorn came flying from the squirrel and hit him in the eye.

Porthos immediately burst out laughing, his rumbling laughter echoing through the forest.

"How's that for a beauty of nature?" Porthos exclaimed under his laughter

The corners of Athos' mouth twitched; the closest he would ever come to smiling, but only a concerned glance rose onto d'Artagnan's face as he saw how red his eye was underneath his cupped hand.

"Is his eye alright Athos?" d'Artagnan mumbled to the musketeer trotting next to him.

"_He _can here you! And my eye is fine thank you... But my pride has been greatly wounded, by a damned squirrel." At this Porthos almost fell of his horse laughing.

All seemed well... the laughter of this band of brothers echoing throughout the forest... Until a twig snapped from somewhere and Athos; the more alert of the four of them immediately silenced, stopping his horse.

"Shhh. Listen." He glanced at Porthos who hastily suppressed his laughter.

They stopped in a long line in the valley. Everything was silent. The bird song that had charmed Aramis before was gone.

Silence.

Until four musket balls came whistling through the trees and found their targets.


	2. Chapter 2

So this is the beginning of the continuation, it is only short but I wanted to complete it quickly so that I could upload it at the same time as I started the story so it wasn't just me literally posting Charliethemusketeerian's work, enjoy :)

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Aramis cried out in pain as the musket ball wedged in his arm. D'Artagnan whipped his head round towards his brother and was about to leap off his horse to reach his friend when a blinding pain in his leg caused him to fall to the ground. He looked up at Aramis, who returned his gaze and gave him a faint smile to let him know that he was alright, although at the moment there was a lot of evidence to dispute this.

Aramis turned to check that his other comrades were okay just in time to see a third musket ball find its mark in Porthos' side. He desperately hoped it had missed his vital organs; it looked like all was well.

And then the worst happened. He saw a fourth and final musket ball whizz towards Athos' head. There was a spray of blood and Athos fell ungracefully to the ground. All that Aramis could hear was his heart pounding in his chest; the world seemed to be moving in slow motion. He heard Porthos shout something but couldn't hear, or wouldn't he supposed. The pain in his arm had numbed to a dull throb which he could easily ignore. That summed up the entire world to him right now. Just a dull, numb place that could all be ignored, all except for Athos. The way he had fallen was almost the worst thing. One moment he was sitting there, a look of deep concern on his face, the next that was all gone and he was falling, falling in both the literal and metaphorical sense. Aramis could vaguely feel himself slipping from his saddle, could hear someone calling out but none of that seemed to matter.

"Aramis!" Porthos shouted as he saw his brother slipping from his saddle. He cast a desperate glance backwards to where d'Artagnan was crouching by Athos' side. He had seen the bullet hit Athos straight in the head. There was no way he could still be alive but he knew they couldn't give up hope, not yet. Besides, for now he had to concentrate on not losing _two _brothers in one go. He caught Aramis as he began to fall to the ground and immediately sunk to his knees. He had almost forgotten about his own injury in his desperation and shock, but now he was painfully reminded. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his head from the foggy feeling that was beginning to invade. He stared at d'Artagnan, he thought he saw the boy smile and wave him over but he couldn't fully concentrate, and soon his eyes began to droop closed.

d'Artagnan desperately beckoned Porthos over. Groaning as the musketeer closed his eyes. He looked around. Aramis had fainted from the shock of seeing his brother be killed and Porthos had fainted from his injuries. Athos lay unmoving on the ground, but, as he had been trying to gesture to Porthos earlier, he was still breathing. He shook his shoulders desperately but he didn't awake. d'Artagnan fought back the urge to sob from a combination of the pain in his leg and the state of his friends.

He was suddenly aware of a pressing feeling of loneliness, surrounded by his brothers.

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There we go, hope it didn't disappoint after the brilliant first chapter, please review :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hi, thanks for all of the lovely reviews, they really make me want to continue writing :). You should be warned that there is a bit of a strange dream in this chapter, in case anyone wants to skip it I have marked the beginning and the end with a star (*) but despite that (or hopefully including) enjoy :)

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Words were whizzing round and jostling for space in d'Artagnan's mind. Time was moving far too quickly. It seemed that with every shallow breath that Athos took, time was hurtling to the moment when there would be no more breath left. The facts began to arrange themselves more neatly, d'Artagnan made a mental list of injuries. Porthos, hit in the side, unconscious but breathing steadily, this meant it had missed all the bits he needed. He was losing blood fast. Aramis, hit in the arm, unconscious, breathing steady, the main danger from the wound was blood loss. Athos, trickier, the bullet had grazed the side of his head, he could be suffering from concussion, memory loss or any number of other things that couldn't be determined until he woke up, and that was if he did wake up. From this he arranged a list of priorities, first he needed to stitch Athos's head, and then do the same for Porthos' then Aramis' wounds. Still he felt calm, after the initial moments of panic when time seemed to be racing away from him, it now seemed to be ticking along steadily, the seconds keeping time with his breaths. As he stared at Athos laying on the blood stained grass beside him he felt a curious detachment. He dragged himself over to where Porthos and Aramis had fallen to see if either of them carried a needle and thread. He found that Aramis had and carefully threaded the needle, taking back over to Athos. He was shocked at how calm he was staying; he supposed it was the shock affecting his brain. This thought worried him, if he wasn't thinking straight then how would he help his friends? As d'Artagnan raised the needle, the walls that had been keeping the panic out came crashing down and he felt his hand shaking. He gasped and pressed his hand against the ground to steady himself. He realised that if he couldn't stitch their wounds properly, his friends would most likely die. He ran his hands through his hair in distress; he didn't know how to do this! Aramis was usually the one who dealt with injuries. His plan had been so clear just a moment ago but it had been washed away the moment he had faced the difficult task of stitching up his brothers.

"Aramis!" he called out, turning his head.

There was no response, he was alone. He took deep breaths, first he would have to clean the wound. Helpfully Athos had brought a bottle of alcohol along with him. He looked around helplessly for a moment before he remembered what he was meant to do and tore a sleeve from his shirt. He poured a little of the bottle onto the cloth and dabbed against Athos's head. There was no reaction from the unconscious man. He began to sew slowly and wasn't entirely sure how he managed to finish. He would be the first to agree that it was sloppy but hopefully Athos would just be thankful for his life. That was of course, assuming that he was going to live now. Porthos was next on the list, d'Artagnan knew that he was going to have to remove the bullet, he drew his dagger and dug out the musket ball, Porthos still remained unconscious . Then d'Artagnan repeated the same process as he had on Athos on him, still he remained unconscious. Unconscious or... But d'Artagnan wouldn't allow himself to think that. He was struggling to ignore the fact that he hadn't been able to bring himself to check their breathing as he stitched. Too frightened on what it might show. He examined Aramis' wound closely, it didn't seem to be too serious. It would, however, still require stitching.

"d'Artagnan..." came a weak voice. It took d'Artagnan a few seconds to realise that it was Aramis who spoke.

"Yes it's me, I'm here, Aramis are you alright"

"Fine" he mumbled "What happ-... Dear God... Athos..." Aramis trailed off and tears began to well in his eyes.

"Aramis, Athos is alive" he told his brother excitedly

"How? He was shot in the head." Aramis said, more to himself than d'Artagnan.

"It just grazed the side of his head"

"Is he-?"

"He's unconscious at the moment; I stitched the wound, Porthos' too."

"Well done" Aramis said, smiling approvingly.

"I was just going to stitch yours as well" d'Artagnan said, motioning towards Aramis' arm.

"I can do it myself" he insisted

"Are you sure? I don't think that's the best idea"

"I am perfectly fine, which is more than can be said for you" Aramis frowned at the wound on d'Artagnan's leg which the youngest musketeer had neglected in his desperation. Aramis held out his hand for the needle and thread which d'Artagnan reluctantly handed over. He then sat back, exhausted, expecting Aramis to begin stitching his own arm and was shocked when he felt the searing pain in his leg as Aramis half emptied the bottle over it.

"I'm sorry d'Artagnan but you need the attention more than I and I couldn't see any way that I would be able to convince you of that fact. Trickery seemed the best option. Please try to stay as still as possible"

*With a sigh d'Artagnan lay back on the grass, he found himself looking up at the sky. The clouds looked so very pretty. He was sure that one there looked exactly like Constance, she was waving at him. He grinned and waved back, walking over to her as he did. She met him with an embrace and began to kiss him passionately.

"Not here" d'Artagnan whispered harshly "Everyone is staring at us" this was indeed true, they were standing in the middle of the court room and eyes glared at them from all directions, including those belonging to Constance's husband and surprisingly d'Artagnan's own mother. The judge was scowling particularly cruelly.

"Monsieur d'Artagnan, you have been charged with the murder of Constance Bonacieux, how do you plead?"

He frowned in confusion, Constance was standing right beside him, she smiled and blew him a kiss.

"Innocent" he said, grasping Constance's hand.

"Then we call our first witness, Athos of the kings musketeers; please tell the court what you told me yesterday."

"This man is most definitely a murderer; he murdered my friends, the musketeers Porthos and Aramis." Athos said, waving to his side where Aramis and Porthos lay, a large red stain on each of their chests, their unseeing eyes gazing upwards.

"No!" d'Artagnan shouted

"We call our next witness" the judge went on, ignoring d'Artagnan frantic yells "Madame Bonacieux"

"It's alright" Constance said smiling, squeezing d'Artagnan's hand before walking away from him to stand beside the judge. As she did so d'Artagnan breathed a sigh of relief, she would tell them that he hadn't murdered her, she was there, living proof.

"I agree with the musketeer Athos" Constance said "d'Artagnan is guilty of murdering me" she said forlornly. Then as she stared at him accusingly, her skin began to fall gently off her bones to the floor like well cooked lamb.

"No!" d'Artagnan screamed again. Constance's skeleton fell to the floor with a clatter and lay beside Aramis' and Athos' corpses. Porthos stared at him coldly.

"The sentence must be death!" he shouted and soon a chant grew up around d'Artagnan.

"Death! Death! Death! Death!"

He could feel hands pushing him roughly forward towards a wall where he was shackled. He could see Aramis standing at the other end of the small open air courtyard with a musket in his hand.

"Sorry, old friend, but murder cannot go unpunished" He said and pulled the trigger. The bullet began to swim sluggishly in d'Artagnan's direction, making gently loops in the air as it did, drawing d'Artagnan's attention to the sky which was burning blood red, the clouds were pictures of his friends faces, each with a bullet hole between their empty eyes. The cloud that was Aramis grinned down at him.

"d'Artagnan!" it called "Can you hear me?"

The bullet had reached the end of its meandering path and lodged itself in d'Artagnan's leg. He screamed.*

"d'Artagnan it alright, I'm here, calm down" Aramis said, attempting to hold his friend still.

"I'm fine" d'Artagnan assured.

"Nightmare?"

d'Artagnan swallowed and nodded.

"How long have I been asleep?" He asked

"Only about two hours."

"How are Athos and Porthos?"

"Athos still hasn't woken" Aramis said and the worry in his voice was clear "Porthos woke about an hour ago, he's fine I think but he needed more rest. I bandaged all your wounds, and my own before you ask."

d'Artagnan swallowed again, still shaken from his nightmare.

"I think what we should be worrying about now is where our would be assassins have disappeared to"

d'Artagnan personally thought that it didn't matter where they were as long as they weren't here now.

"They had no reason to just leave, unless they believed we were all dead."

"We almost were" d'Artagnan said, smiling.

Aramis cast an almost imperceptible glance at Athos "Almost" he reinforced. And allowed himself to believe that they had got through the worst, that now it was just a matter of waiting until Athos woke up and they were all well enough to return to Paris. But things were never that simple, not when his brothers were involved.

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There we go, bit longer than the last chapter, but I suppose quite a bit of it is made of weird dream...

Well anyway, hope you enjoyed, please review, reviews are even better than unicorn cats called Gerold who only eat marshmallows and live in pillow cases :)


	4. Chapter 4

Here we go, next chapter up, I think this story is probably gonna end up being about 10 chapters, maybe longer. Anyway, enjoy :)

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It was d'Artagnan's turn to take watch first. Athos hadn't woken at all; it had now been too many hours to keep count of. Porthos had woken again, more fully than the last, but he was now sleeping next to Aramis under makeshift blankets (their cloaks). They had placed a rolled up jacket under Athos' head and covered him with a cloak to keep him as comfortable as possible. He didn't see how it would make any difference, Athos was dying. It was the first time he'd thought those words. He'd known, of course, for a long time that this was the truth but he hadn't thought it so frankly before. Athos needed a skilled physician, their self taught, homemade efforts would keep him alive for a while but that was all. There was a rustling from the trees, d'Artagnan tensed for a moment, peering into the gloom but relaxed when he saw a squirrel clamber up into the canopy. D'Artagnan was reminded of how carefree they had been not so long ago. The happy laughter which d'Artagnan now thought may have been what drew the attackers to them. It was funny though, how the mind plays tricks when one is scared and tired. He could have sworn that before the squirrel scuttled into view the moon glinted of something metal concealed behind a tree trunk.

"d'Artagnan!" Aramis called out. D'Artagnan turned his head to see Aramis propped up on his elbows on the grass a little way away.

"I'll take watch now, you get some sleep"

D'Artagnan was grateful; he was exhausted after the day's events. He laid his head down on the grass and closed his eyes. He was still lying there awake after thirty minutes. D'Artagnan had heard of people falling asleep as soon as their head hit the pillow although he had never been that fortunate, but so far he had never heard of people waking up as soon as their head hit the pillow. This is what was happening to him now. Before he had closed his eyes he had been looking forward to sleep but as soon as they were closed it seemed like the absence of visual stimulation had made way for the anxieties and fears for himself and his friends. He knew he was never going to get to sleep, not now. Not when Athos was lying motionless so closely. When the threat of their unknown attackers still loomed above their heads. Until now he had remained in his recumbent position almost in defiance of his own mind. He gave in and sat up slowly, opening his eyes to gaze at the deep blue-blackness of the night. No stars twinkled down on them, clouds obscured them. The only light was the crescent moon, which illuminated what d'Artagnan now recognised as the sleeping form of Aramis. He sighed, now thankful that he hadn't slept. His throat ached, alerting him to the fact that none of them had drunk any water since the attack. He knew they had passed a stream on their way; it couldn't be too far back. They could go and collect some in the morning. However, it surely wouldn't hurt to nip back and get a drink for himself now, the others were all fast asleep, they would be alright and no-one was going to attack them in the few minutes it took d'Artagnan to get a drink. He stood up shakily, still tired but he already knew sleep was impossible. He cast one quick glance around before leaving, all was still.

D'Artagnan reached the stream quickly and cupped the cool trickling water in his hands. He took several gulps of the water before realising something was wrong. He looked up slowly until his gaze met a pair of boots, unsurprisingly attached to the rest of the man's body. d'Artagnan didn't know how long the man had been standing there. It made him uncomfortable to think about it.

"Your friend is dying" the man said

It wasn't a question but d'Artagnan answered anyway, unsure of what else he could do.

"Yes"

"Rather a good shot, don't you think? It is so difficult to just clip the side of a man's head without his brain being splattered across the scenery. But of course, I've had practice."

"It was you who attacked us?"

"No, I was just remarking on the unrelated facts of how good a shot the attacker must have been and how I have practiced shooting before" he said sarcastically "of course it was me! Along with my friends. "

D'Artagnan remained where he was crouched by the river. There had been no sign of the attackers since they had attacked, had they been here the whole time.

"You see, we're worried about your friend, we really are" the man continued "We just want him to be alright, because, you see, we're lovely people really. We have a doctor, we can help him."

"Why would you want to do that, what do you want in return?"

"My good sir! What accusations are these? Are you saying that we would only help your dear friend if you gave us some sort of payment perhaps in the form of information about the musketeers and the guards on the palace? Surely not!"

D'Artagnan didn't say anything, he had the feeling that the man hadn't quite finished yet. After a short pause he continued.

"Of course, if you absolutely insist, I wouldn't say no to entertaining one of you little mates back there as my honoured guest for a little while. I'd return him, good as new, obviously. Perhaps with some minor flesh wounds, but what's that between friends, eh? "

D'Artagnan took a moment to work out what the man was proposing.

"So you're saying, you'll help Athos, if one of us goes with you to be inevitably tortured for information about the musketeers? I think we're fine on our own, thanks."

"Well if you don't want our help" the man sniffed as if deeply offended "I'm sure your little friend will be just fine on his own, doesn't need a proper doctor, no, he's too good for Xavier's proper doctor, he'll just manage with his incompetent musketeer mates, I mean, he might pull through but I doubt he'd survive **another **bullet in his head, right through his brain this time, he'd be dead as a door knob, mark my words, and these accidents do happen, more often than you think."

This was definitely not good.

"What's to stop me just killing you now?" D'Artagnan questioned raising his pistol to aim at the man's head. At the same moment he felt cold metal pressed against his throat.

"That is, my dear friend. And there are more of us, four shots, remember? My other mates are down by your little camp. So, is it a yes or a no?"

"Will you kill whoever goes with you?"

"Now why would I do that? There wouldn't be much point in one of you dying, to stop one of you dying, would there?"

"What if they refuse to give you the information?"

"Then our little agreement won't have been honoured and you might find our darling doctor's work undone pretty quickly"

D'Artagnan scowled.

"Yes"

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Okay, who else is thinking that the attackers might ever so slightly crazy? I honestly wasn't going to write his character like that when I started but then he kinda began rambling and I couldn't stop. Thanks for reading, please review :) (or Gerold will die!) (lol only joking) (or am I?!) (seriously, am I?) (okay, you better review anyway cause Gerold is looking a bit peaky)


	5. Chapter 5

Next chapter, finally, sorry it took so long :( The next chapter of The True Cost should be up soon now :D

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The man had left straight after d'Artagnan agreed to the deal, leaving him unsure as to whether it was still on. He wandered back to their makeshift camp, doubtful that the mysterious attackers would honour the agreement but nevertheless hopeful that Athos could be saved. He really was exhausted now and he had been ignoring an increasing pain in his leg for far too long. He had barely reached the other slumbering musketeers before he half lay half fell onto the floor and slipped into the welcome embrace of sleep.

When Aramis awoke it was to the unpleasant sight of an unfamiliar person standing above him. Almost without thinking he was up and had his pistol aimed at the figure's head in an instant.

"You have ten seconds before you're dead, make them count" he threatened. Then the person turned and he was shocked to see that they were a woman, it almost, but not quite, made him lower his pistol.

"Please don't shoot! I have been sent here to help your friend, I am the doctor!" Aramis half lowered his pistol, (though it was now aimed at the woman's heart which was not much better in her opinion) surprised and not a little confused.

"**The **doctor?" he questioned.

"Yes, Xavier sent me, he said your friend was injured, I just want to help, please." She stared at him imploringly, her eyes flickering between his face at the loaded pistol which was still aimed at her chest. Aramis placed his pistol back into his belt.

"How did he know?"

"Sorry?"

"Your friend, Xavier was it? How did he know about Athos?"

"He said one you came and asked for help"

"No, I'm sure we didn't, we didn't even know anyone else was near"

"Please, does it matter? I really think your friend needs my help, could you just step aside, I just want to take a look at him." The second part of this was spoken with the calm tone usually used to address a small child if their pet is 'poorly', the speaker knows that there nothing more that can be done for the stricken creature but is scared that any sudden noises may break the subtle spell of hope that envelopes its young owner, knowing that when it does break not only will a tantrum of the highest standards ensue, but a small part of their innocence will be lost forever. This was not lost on Aramis, who peered anxiously at Athos, hoping his condition hadn't deteriorated since the night before.

"Please, Monsieur...?"

"Call me Aramis"

"Monsieur Aramis, I need to help...?"

"Athos"

"I need to help Athos, I believe that there is still hope, though it may be wise to send word back to his home in...?"

"Paris, in the musketeers Garrison"

"His condition is too bad to move him." This seemed to conclude the verbal gap fill, the doctor smiled and nodded, and moved past Aramis to kneel by the sleeping Athos. Aramis knew that when she said to get word back to Paris she intended him to be the one to leave but he couldn't. He couldn't leave Athos now; he would wait until Athos had at least woken up before leaving. Treville would know by now that something had happened, they should have returned the day before.

"Shit!" the doctor cried

"What's happened? What's going on?" Aramis rushed other to Athos' side, the musketeer lay as still and silent as he had for the past days. No, stiller. There was no longer the reassuring rise and fall of his breaths, which had until recently been he only signs that Athos was still alive.

Aramis felt all the blood rush from his face, he suddenly felt incredibly cold. He was surprised that he also felt rather detached from the situation, like he was an uninvolved observer. He just tried to think of the facts; Athos could not be dead, so this could not be real, it stood to reason. That must mean he was dreaming, yes, he'd been worried about Athos so it was only natural that he should have the occasional nightmare. It would also explain the sudden appearance of the self proclaimed doctor who had been so desperate to help and had nevertheless killed Athos. But it was okay because he wasn't dead, he couldn't be so this couldn't be real. It was fine. You just had to think about things logically, think of the facts; Athos was not dead so this wasn't real. This couldn't be real, because Athos couldn't be dead, Athos wasn't dead, it was all a dream. Aramis was only vaguely aware that his thoughts were becoming manically repetitive.

"Aramis, Monsieur Aramis!" the doctor's desperate yells finally broke through to his thoughts.

Aramis stared into her face, looking imploringly up at him. Long chestnut hair blew in the gentle breeze and she was squinting against the sun.

Aramis didn't move.

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Gerold is dead!

is what you would be hearing if you hadn't left a review for the last chapter! :D So thank you, the more review juice I consume, the faster I can type :)


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for leaving you on such a cliffhanger last chapter, I thought it was mean so I've uploaded the next chapter sooner than usual :) The medical knowledge in this chapter is probably awful, I did a bit of research but decided in the end to go with artistic licence, enjoy :)

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"Monsieur Aramis!"

Antoinette (for that was the doctor's name) looked desperately at Athos, his breathing had slowed dangerously and just when she needed his trigger happy friend he seemed to be ignoring her completely.

"Monsieur Aramis, your friend is dying, I need your help!"

Dying. Not dead, dying. Marginally better.

"What do I need to do?"

"I wasn't prepared for this, Xavier told me nothing... I have brought my bag, is it enough? It could be I suppose, but no, this is really not the right time to be taking chances... I suppose we have no other option"

Aramis frowned but waited patiently for her to conclude her monologue. Never had he been happier to hear that one of his friends was dying. It was a strange thought when it came like that, but dying meant that there was still life left to cling onto. A small part of him tried to interject and point out that he may not be entirely in his right mind, that perhaps he ought to go and have a little lie down but it was like the steering wheel of his brain had been grabbed by adrenaline, the cruel voice of fear muttering scathing remarks from the passenger seat.

"Monsieur, I believe I know what to do. While commendable that someone had the presence of mind to stay calm and stitch the wound it may not have been the wisest choice in the situation. I brought basic medical supplies, needles and alcohol and so forth, but I left much of my equipment behind. I honestly didn't think for a moment that it would be necessary. I must return and fetch it now, please, you must watch him. Keep him on his side so he doesn't choke on his own tongue. If anything at all happens just shout loudly, I won't be far."

Aramis failed to see how any of this mattered, why she was telling him. She was here to save Athos so that is what she should do. She was babbling on, chastising their own methods, taking up valuable time. Stop talking and help him!

Aramis nodded meekly.

"He'll be fine, alright?"

Fear highly doubted this; it knew that Athos was dying, already dead. That he would die there in front of Aramis' eyes and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. Adrenaline kept its eyes on the road, ignoring the graphic predictions of Athos' death, still hoping. Rational thought took a nap in the back seat.

Aramis nodded again, not trusting himself to do much else and stay in one piece.

"I'll be back before you know I'm gone"

But she wasn't. The sudden absence of her surprisingly reassuring presence shocked Aramis. It was hours before she was back, long drawn out hours of watching Athos' chest rise and fall. Each time comforting Aramis and terrifying him that it was for the last time. Finally, after a lifetime, she returned.

"See? Told you, I was only gone a minute. Okay, you may want to leave."

Aramis shook his head determinedly.

"Have you lost the ability to speak? Come on, I feel like I'm talking to myself here."

"I'm fine; I want to stay with him."

"Okay, if you're sure"

Even in his current state, Aramis was aware that something was wrong... wrong**er**.

"Porthos! d'Artagnan!"

"Mumblemumblemumblemumble, mumble **away** 'rmis"

"What?!"

Aramis waited until they had regained what was left of their senses and remembered where they were. It wasn't the cheeriest realisation. It Porthos who reached it first.

"Where's Athos?" a pause "Who on earth is she?!"

"She's a doctor, she's here to help, don't ask me why." Aramis explained

"How's Athos, is he okay?" d'Artagnan said

"I think he's fine at the moment, he needs-"

"-Okay, this will take far too long to explain, we really don't have the time so if you'd like to have a nice little chat I'll get on with it, okay?" Antoinette scowled, she needed to concentrate and this idiot was organising a tea party. She hadn't had the heart earlier to say that 'you may want to leave' was a polite version 'get the hell out of here now you gun wielding maniac or I'll literally eat your face".

Well, the face eating may be going a tad too far but right now she just didn't have time for crazy, inconsiderate and just downright stupid musketeers. She was here to do a job, no-one said she had to be nice, and until now she had really been trying.

"You know, I don't have to do this. I don't know this man, he could die for all I care but I am a doctor and helping people is what I do. If it wasn't for Xavier and me your friend would have taken his last breath by now!"

The trio was momentarily stunned into silence.

"Now go away!"

They left, wondering only briefly why they did.

Antoinette frowned in concentration as she methodically undid the stitches that d'Artagnan had so carefully sewn. The wound beneath them had partially healed already, making her feel even more like she was just hurting him when she drew her knife along the wound. Blood began to trickle out slowly but it wasn't too bad, she had already given him a herb to control the bleeding. Then came the part she had been dreading. Carefully, with a slightly shaking hand she lifted her tweezers to extract the first piece of fractured skull from the man's head.

She couldn't help feeling that this would make an interesting game, of course not on a real patient. There'd have to be some sort of signal for when you got it wrong. She dismissed the rather silly thought almost as soon as it came.

"Is he okay?"

"Where is he?"

"What's wrong, is he dead?"

"Please, just listen-"

A renewed wave of frantic, shouted questions drowned out Antoinette's voice.

Athos opened his eyes.

* * *

So, Athos isn't dead :) That was just Aramis being over paranoid.

"This mortal form has grown weak. I need sustenance!"* In the form of reviews :D

*Thor


	7. Chapter 7

New chapter! Hooray! :) Three cheers for me (hey, that means you too!)

* * *

Athos' Memories

There was no time to register what had happened. Athos saw the bullet whiz through the air to hit Porthos. And then there was nothing.

The world seemed to be in black and white, the complex rainbow drained and compressed into one colour. The colour of blood.

The darkness conquered.

There was pain, nothing else.

For what seemed like days.

Everything was silent.

Occasionally the silence was interrupted by a slow thump like of a heartbeat. A dying heart beating in slow motion. His.

Then a pinpoint of light, shining. Not in front of his eyes, they remained closed and motionless, but in his head. It grew until it was everything and slowly the faces of his friends swan into view, calling out his name.

They told him what he wanted to hear.

He could sleep.

He didn't have to hold on any longer.

It was alright.

He could sleep.

He could just let go.

He had been holding on for so long, too long.

All the doors had closed, it was okay.

There was no other way now.

Then suddenly there was.

The doors had been flung open.

The eternal sleep no longer called so strongly.

Beyond that door his brothers waited.

He would go to them.

He opened his eyes.

D'Artagnan was the only one who saw but they all fell silent at once. They could sense the shift in the atmosphere. Athos' eyes fluttered closed almost as soon as they had opened and remained so for several minutes. No-one dared move, barely even dared to breathe. They opened again; he blinked a few times, squinting against the sudden flood of sunlight.

"Athos?" It was d'Artagnan who was first to speak.

"D'Artagnan? Where's Porthos, is he alright?"

No-one spoke. D'Artagnan could tell that they were all thinking the same thing. Athos' first words after waking up were asking after Porthos. Did he know how close he had come to death? How terrified they had all been?

"I'm fine Athos, we were all far more worried about you" D'Artagnan could tell that Porthos had to struggle to keep his voice even.

Athos sighed and his eyes closed again, they all cast worried glances at the doctor.

"He will be fine now, he just needs rest."

"More rest? He's been asleep for days!" D'Artagnan exclaimed.

"A coma isn't exactly the same as sleep.

"He really will be alright now d'Artagnan, we need to let him sleep."

"The injury itself was not overly severe, the is a good hope that it will not result in brain damage, although of course there is always that chance. I believe that he went into shock. Of course, you should wake him every few hours and he should have someone watching him. I have to return now, Xavier will be waiting."

"He really will be alright?" D'Artagnan questioned

He knew he would have to leave. He couldn't leave whilst Athos was still asleep. He didn't want him to wake up and find d'Artagnan gone.

"He'll be **fine **d'Artagnan" Aramis assured him.

D'Artagnan remained silent. He would have to leave tonight. He couldn't risk Xavier carrying out his threat.

"Monsieur d'Artagnan? You are the one who spoke to Xavier, yes? He enquired after you, he said he would be honoured to have you round for dinner tonight" She smiled at him warmly

"Yes, that would be... that would be great... looking forward to it"

Aramis frowned at him slightly but said nothing.

For a reason that she couldn't quite put her finger on, Antoinette felt like she was doing something terribly wrong. What was bad about asking her brother's old friend round? Nothing, surely, the boy had said he would like to. But if that was true, why did he look so scared?

* * *

The first person to review is my best friend! (which is a great honour, I assure you) :D


	8. Chapter 8

This chapter is quite short, but I've been on holiday for a week with no rarely any internet, and I wont be back for another few days so I wanted to leave you with a chapter, enjoy :)

* * *

The doctor was gone in much the same manner as she arrived. Abruptly and with a distinct lack of answers. She had explained the way to Xavier's house to d'Artagnan, and he agreed to follow behind later after he had time to gather his things.

"D'Artagnan!" Porthos called to d'Artagnan as he was about to leave "This isn't right. What's going on?"

"I don't know what you mean. How's your side?" d'Artagnan tried and failed to deflect the question.

"Yes you do, this Xavier, who is he?"

"Just an old friend"

"An old friend who you've never spoken of?" Aramis chipped in, walking up to stand beside Porthos

"Yes, I never had cause to. I'm sure you haven't told me about all your past acquaintances"

Aramis and Porthos shared a look which spoke clearly of their disbelief.

"D'Artagnan, rushing off into danger won't solve anything" Aramis said "I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer it honestly, okay?"

D'Artagnan nodded.

"Is this Xavier the man who attacked us?"

Damn. So that couldn't have gone any worse. D'Artagnan hated the thought of lying directly to Aramis when he had been asked explicitly not to.

"I'll be fine Aramis"

"Brilliant." Porthos sighed

"What did he tell you, d'Artagnan? Why are you doing this?"

"Just let me go, besides, you need to stay behind to keep an eye on Athos"

This made them hesitate.

"Not both of us" Porthos eventually said "You can't expect us to let you go alone, what would Athos say to that, eh?"

D'Artagnan knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"I must go alone" he tried

"He doesn't need to see that there is anyone with you, one of us will just stay hidden and make sure no harm comes to you, surely you can not object to that?" Aramis reasoned

"-" D'Artagnan tried to form an argument but found that Aramis' words were true, he could not object to it. "If you're seen..."

"D'Artagnan, please" Aramis looked offended that d'Artagnan would suggest such a thing

"Alright, fine, but Porthos, make sure Athos is alright, yeah?"

The house turned out to be a rather unimpressive sight. Perhaps d'Artagnan had been expecting something grand or maybe even threatening but the first impression was that of a pleasant countryside cottage, complete with hollyhocks framing the inviting doorway. How on earth could this be a even more frightening sight than a dark and stormy mansion? d'Artagnan didn't know how, but he knew that it certainly was. In a way it added to the sense of madness around Xavier, that such a cold hearted villain would choose to live in such a tranquil place.

"I will wait back here" Aramis said "Any further and I am sure to be spotted, and the trees run out so there would be no cover if I was"

"Well, I'd better go in"

"D'Artagnan, please tell me you haven't agreed to anything stupid"

D'Artagnan sighed; Aramis had pestered him about it for the first half of the journey but had slipped into silence when his question seemed to fall on deaf ears. It seemed he was now re-attempting his mission.

"I will be fine Aramis"

"So you can promise you're not going in there to be tortured or to give away valuable musketeer secrets?"

It was almost spooky the way Aramis had seen through his plan. But then, when he thought about it, d'Artagnan could see that it was a bit obvious. At least he could answer no to one of the questions, he definitely wasn't going to tell Xavier anything. His plan was to tell him false information enough for him to leave Athos alone for a while and hopefully by the time he found out, d'Artagnan's friends would be back in Paris.

"Your silence says it all, my friend"

"I will be fine. If I am not back in a day, return to Paris"

Aramis opened his mouth to speak but was soon cut off.

"No, I know what you're going to say, just here me out. You would need re-enforcements, the best thing to do would be to return to Paris and then ask Treville to send a troop of musketeers back here, alright?"

The logic made sense, but Aramis still didn't like the idea of leaving d'Artagnan behind. He nodded without any real conviction.

"Alright, as long as you can promise we won't need to do that" Aramis said, smiling in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Promise" d'Artagnan said, and urged his horse forward.

Aramis dismounted and concealed himself and his horse in the trees, watching d'Artagnan until he had disappeared into the chillingly pleasant doorway. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

* * *

So d'Artagnan is now in Xavier's clutches... poor boy...

I may not have a copy of 'Torture: A History' but I have a Wikipedia and a perfectly functioning imagination at my disposal :)

Anyway, you now have half a week to leave reviews :P


	9. Chapter 9

And I'm back! :) Hooray! France was fun, I learned that Louis XIV had a **major **gold obsession (like goldmember major) and that 35 degrees (95 degrees fahrenheit) is my melting point.

Anyway, enjoy :)

* * *

"So delighted that you could join us, friend!"

These were Xavier's first words as d'Artagnan walked through the door and they dripped insincerity.

"The feeling is not entirely mutual" He replied coldly. He noticed the doctor from earlier standing by Xavier's side, half hidden in the shadows. She seemed puzzled by his words.

"I...'I'll just go then shall I? Leave you two... friends to ...catch up on... things..." She all but stammered, retreating through the open doorway behind her.

D'Artagnan didn't move. He just stood staring at Xavier, daring the man to make a move. He wasn't disappointed. In a flash the cheerful mirage vanished from Xavier's face and his true murderous nature was shown. He grabbed d'Artagnan by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall so that his arm was pressed against d'Artagnan's chest, restricting his breathing. To his credit, d'Artagnan managed to not cry out through this and resumed his accusing gaze as soon as he could gain eye contact with Xavier.

"This is fun, no?" Xavier said, smiling (though perhaps 'smiling' isn't the right description. Certainly the corners of his mouth turned up but the result was not in any way one of humour). He pressed his arm harder against d'Artagnan's chest so that the musketeer had to gasp for breath.

"I'm sorry," he managed to retort "I'm sure you're a lovely man but I'm already taken, you know how it is, with-"

Xavier cut him off with a grunt and hurled him across the room into the opposite wall.

"Okay... Ow?" d'Artagnan complained, his light-hearted tone slightly betrayed by his difficulty in getting to his feet. He managed it, however, and was once again face to face with Xavier.

"I tried to be friends, remember that. We could have done this the easy way!" Xavier growled "You are in **my **house! **My **rules! You do as **I** say! One more word, **one** more (!) and you will regret it!"

D'Artagnan remained silent. Before, Xavier hadn't seemed much of a threat, he had been happy to joke around him. Now he was starting to see how this might not have been his **best **idea ever.

"Good. Now come with me. I'll show you to your... room" Xavier said, he voice calmer now.

"I do hope it has a view of the sea..." d'Artagnan muttered, unable to help himself.

"That was more than one word!" Xavier shouted. He grabbed d'Artagnan's arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to his knees. "I could break your arm right now; do you think I'd care?"

D'Artagnan hissed in pain and struggled against Xavier's grip.

"Now are you going to apologise?" Xavier questioned

Again d'Artagnan opted for silence. This seemed to be the wrong answer; Xavier kicked his foot against d'Artagnan back so that the musketeer ended up face down on the floor. Still gripping his arm, Xavier knelt down with one knee pressed into the small of d'Artagnan's back so that he couldn't get back up.

"You will apologise" Xavier said. It was a statement, not a request. "I might still break your arm for your insolence but you can make sure it isn't your back I break instead."

D'Artagnan felt that apologising to this man was more than his pride could take. He tried to force the words past his lips but it was like he was gagged and unable to speak. The thought of returning to his friends and having to recount it, or of them finding out in some other way was just too humiliating. He knew he should really comply, it wasn't a problem in the scheme of things and a daring escape would really benefit from two working arms, but he just **couldn't.** Not to a man like Xavier. The idea of it sickened him and he just couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Fine" Xavier said. There was a horribly loud crack and d'Artagnan, to his shame, screamed. The pain radiated up his arm and he couldn't tell if Xavier had released it or not. There was another sudden wave of pain and he went for not. D'Artagnan was still pretty sure it was worth it. He would not give this man the satisfaction of breaking him. And certainly not within the first hour. A voice in the back of his mind reminded d'Artagnan that Xavier already had broken him, or his arm at least, but he dismissed it. There was a matter of honour to consider.

"Right" Xavier said "You are lucky I still need you" he dug his knee into d'Artagnan's back as a reminder of how much more damage he could have done and rose to his feet. Offering d'Artagnan no assistance in getting up himself.

D'Artagnan pushed his good arm against the floor and got to his knees, pausing for a moment to even his breathing and using his arm on his knees to get to his feet.

"Now follow me. Any more disobedience will be dealt with in a similar manner. If you are good I will ask Annie to make you a sling. I trust she was successful with your friend?"

D'Artagnan didn't reply, not out of a desire to remain silent but because he thought he might throw up if he opened his mouth.

"Good. You have learned. Time for talking is over."

"What's wrong, I heard a scream" A voice came from behind them and d'Artagnan turned to see the doctor standing in the doorway, looking around warily. He eyes rested on d'Artagnan's broken arm. "Mon dieu, what happened? That arm is broken!"

"Yeah" d'Artagnan said, rightly guessing that Xavier would not attack him in the doctor's presence "I kind of figured that out"

"What happened?" she repeated

"I slipped" d'Artagnan said, casting his eyes back to Xavier who nodded approvingly.

"I'll need to set it, and I can get you a sling. Come with me"

"No" Xavier said "He stays with me"

"Zavy, he needs help"

"I know. He stays with me. If you have a spare sling he'll take it. I'd rather he not start blubbing like a baby halfway through our little chat."

"Okay" Antoinette said, sighing.

Surely she can't be that naive, d'Artagnan thought. How many times had he done this to people, and she has just turned a blind eye?

"I'll be in the kitchen then, if you need me. I'm sure Monsieur d'Artagnan will have more of these... accidents, throughout the day. If he's anywhere near as clumsy as some of your other house guests." She said, with no hint of sarcasm, but perhaps with a sort of resignation.

* * *

Okay, I think we can all guess what's coming in the next chapter. Am I the only one thinking that sometimes d'Artagnan can be too proud for his own good? I actually wanted him to swallow his pride and apologise but it just seemed so not like him. His little internal struggle is just representative of my own when writing it.

As a wise man once said:

_Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to review_

\- Albus Dumbledore... almost...


	10. Chapter 10

So I'm not dead! So sorry, I've had exams and birthday's and a new cousin being born... but I'm back now. I'm having a bit of writer's block with The True Cost at the moment so that might be on hold for a little while, but I'll be back to my (ir)regular updates of Brothers now, hope you enjoy :)

* * *

Her dreams were haunted by screams. As long as she could remember. They were just dreams, Xavier had assured her. Remnants of their traumatic past, slithers of repressed memories released in the night. The night when the darkness came. Darkness was fear. Light was the tantalizing relief that hid below the horizon. Until the bright sun soared into the sky, she must endure the night.

D'Artagnan screamed.

"Oh, I am sorry, was I hurting you then?" Xavier asked in his disgustingly friendly voice. They had reached the cellar of the small cottage and d'Artagnan's arms had been yanked upwards roughly to be manacled to the walls. Xavier opened his mouth to speak but d'Artagnan was in no state to hear, he had passed out from the abuse of his broken arm.

"So rude." Xavier sighed.

Time passed. The sun, as ever, did not fail in its duty to illuminate the air. In the dank cellar of the secluded cottage, darkness remained, and infinite night reigned.

It has been only a night, Aramis thought, we agreed on a day... I cannot leave him behind... I promised I would go... He promised I wouldn't have to... Till midday I shall wait, then... Well, then we shall see.

"Gooooood Mooorning!" Xavier trilled

D'Artagnan lifted his head sleepily. After he had been secured to the wall, Xavier had left him in the empty cellar, bare but for the chair on which he sat in order to lessen the pressure on his broken arm.

"Okay, I'm not going to waste our time with needless lies. We both know the deal here." He smiled at d'Artagnan who was still trying to recollect why his arm hurt.

"I'm going to kill you anyway, just telling me what you know will save you the... the bits in between." He smiled again and cocked his head to one side, not at all disheartened by d'Artagnan's lack of response.

"Come on, I don't want to hurt you. Oops! I just lied. I do, very much so. But I'd rather not go to all the bother, when you could just spill the beans now. It's a good deal, just tell me... when the guard changes, how many guards there are at any time throughout the palace, where they are stationed. Which may be persuaded to take a small gift in exchange for their silence, when the king and queen will be away from the palace with few or no guards, and anything else you can think of. Then, I'll just shoot you in the head." He practically beamed this time, but moved closer to d'Artagnan in an obviously threatening way.

"Melusine, come in here!"

A new figure entered that d'Artagnan was unfamiliar with. She was tall, with sparkling green eyes and smooth wavy black hair that fell at her waist.

"What do you want Xavier? I am tired."

"I was just thinking you could help me with our friend here, just you two have a little chat, write down what he tells you." Xavier handed her a piece of parchment and a pen that d'Artagnan had hitherto unnoticed.

"Oh" She said simply, her hair swishing as she came to sit cross legged in front of d'Artagnan, he heard the door gently close, marking Xavier's exit.

"What do you know then?"

"Right. You know, I have seen **better** interrogation techniques in my life..."

"I'm not an interrogator, alright? I don't like this any more than you do," She eyed his broken arm "Okay, maybe I like it a bit more, but that isn't saying much." She sighed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "Look, what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. Xavier is... well he's not exactly right, you know? I don't think he even realises that what he's doing is wrong. But... He scares me... slightly... I just. Eugh!" she rubbed her eyes again, in apparent anguish "Please. Just tell him what he needs to know. This has happened... too many times before... The first few times, I believed he'd let the people go, but then... Oh, just please don't try and fight him. You're dead, I'm sorry, I truly am, but you're dead. But you can spare yourself the pain. Please"

There was honest begging in her voice and she looked close to tears.

"You don't have to do this" d'Artagnan said "You could help me"

She looked terrified, like he was free of his manacles and brandishing a knife at her neck.

"No... No, he'd kill me, he'd-"

"He's going to kill **me**! But you can stop that; you can do the right thing!"

"No, please, please just, just tell him-"

"Melusine! How many people have you watched die? You can stop this, and I promise that if you do, he won't hurt you."

"You really promise?" The tears flowed freely from her eyes now "Alright, but, he'll be back soon. I'll say you refused to talk. I can't stop what he will do then, but in the mean time I will come up with a plan, you're not going to die. I can do this!"

"Yes you can, you're better than him"

"Yeah!" She said, smiling, the fallen tears drying on her face.

d'Artagnan began to feel a glimmer of hope, perhaps he wasn't doomed to die here after all.

"Hello darling!"

This was Xavier's next over enthusiastic greeting.

"My beautiful Mel tells me that you won't talk. We ought to change that situation"

"I fail to see how" D'Artagnan replied

"Really? This your first time?" Xavier said with a wink and in a tone which made it impossible to avoid the innuendo.

"Don't look so terrified!" –D'Artagnan was certain that he hadn't-"I would never stoop so low. No, just a bit of light bone crushing is more my style"

D'Artagnan hadn't ever seen a more literal interpretation of 'he was grinning from ear to ear'.

"You know, you musketeers are all the same. If you haven't talked by now, there's not much chance torture can change your mind. But isn't it fun?! Besides, you have some extra incentive, don't you my dear? One word from me and your friend's head won't be useful for anything except soup."

He mimed his head exploding before winking a second time.

"Now, you enjoy that nice mental image whilst I go get prepared. I don't want to make a mess all over my nice clean clothes"

"Okaaay! I'm back, did you miss me? Course you did! You know what? Let's start with the very basics. You know I've always said that you can't go wrong with a good flogging to start the day"

He revealed the barely concealed whip from behind his back with a flourish.

d'Artagnan knew it would look strange if he broke immediately, he would have to endure at least some of Xavier's plans before revealing the false information. Even that wouldn't buy much time, he just had to hope that Aramis would heed his advice and get the three of them back to Paris before Xavier discovered his lies. He would still die; he had long ago accepted that. This Melosine was a glimmer of hope but she seemed far too terrified of Xavier to make a move. It was then that he realised that Xavier was unlocking his manacles from the wall; he had been so lost in thought that the only thing that alerted him to Xavier's presence was when he jarred D'Artagnan's broken arm.

Xavier dragged him roughly to the centre of the room, giving no care to his arm. Not that D'Artagnan had been expecting him too.

"You move, or do anything except tell me what I want to hear and your friend is dead, got that?"

The harsh tone was back and the manic cheerfulness vanished. It gave d'Artagnan the impression that had Xavier been sane, he would still be a cold hearted villain.

"Now, don't bother shouting or begging me to stop at any point, you know the words that can end it so don't waste your breathe on others."

He heard the whistling as the whip sailed through the air and the sickening crack as it slashed across his back. D'Artagnan remained silent, resolute, struggling to keep the signs of pain from his face.

That night tortured screams rang out anew in Antoinette's dreams.

* * *

So there we go! I feel like I've been adding too many OCs into this :/, but Melusine and Antoinette both have important parts... I don't know.

Please review :) Or a hippopotamus will eat your shoes :o


	11. Chapter 11

So sorry :( It seems that almost all of these have an update time promise which is never met... So I wont promise anything this time except that I will get the next chapter up as soon as I can.

Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

* * *

D'Artagnan's waking was, if possible, even worse than the last. It took him far too long to realise what was going on. For the first few heart stopping moments all he could recall was seeing Athos be shot in the head. And the relief when he remembered that Athos was alive was somewhat nullified by the recollection of his current position. Oh right, he thought, that'll be why I feel like I just spent hours being whipped, beaten and cut by a psychopath with major anger issues – because I have. It took him another ten minutes to assess his numerous injuries and come up with the detailed conclusion of 'most things hurt, can't feel the things that don't'.

So with his hopes of escaping smashed, at least for now, D'Artagnan's thoughts turned to his other option. The girl – Melusine. She was willing to help him, or at least it seemed that way. D'Artagnan didn't really see what she could do to help, but hope was always fun. On reflection, fun wasn't the right word to use. Maybe Xavier was starting to rub off on him. He physically shivered at the thought, which was a mistake because the action did nothing to help his injuries.

"Is my little cherry pie awake of this fine morn?"

D'Artagnan threw Xavier what was in his own mind a condescending glare which said 'You think I'm afraid of you? Bring it on'. In reality it was a bit more pitiful than that but it would do, it was the thought that counted.

"Aw, is oo a ickle bit hurt?"

D'Artagnan had never wanted to punch someone in the face more in his life, but with one arm broken and both shackled to a wall this was a hopeless dream.

"Sooooooo" Xavier said, a long drawn out word, obviously verbalized purely to annoy "You give in yet?" He didn't even wait for D'Artagnan to reply, just shouted out the door.

"Mel, love! Be a dear and pop in here for a minute would you?"

Melusine slunk into the room, a glum expression on her face.

"What is it now Xavier?"

"I thought you might like a little alone time with our guest, I'm off to grab a baguette" He flashed a grin at D'Artagnan before bouncing happily out of the dank cellar.

Melusine paused a moment, looked around furtively as if to check that Xavier hadn't concealed himself in a corner someplace. She leaned closer to D'Artagnan and spoke in a hushed voice.

"Do you trust me?"

D'Artagnan frowned at her. Well... he guessed he'd have to. She was his only chance here.

"Look, I can get you out but you have to listen to me. You have to tell me what you know, I will show it to Xavier and then when he is reading it he will be distracted and I can stab him in the back"

D'Artagnan was mildly shocked that the snivelling girl he had spoken to earlier had been planning murder since the last time they met.

"So just tell me some things and I can write them down now"

The plan could work, possibly. It was a million to one chance, but those seemed to have a habit of working out. He could still just tell fake information. Xavier would end up dead anyway so he'd never find out.

"The thing is..." Melusine said, before pausing and looking thoroughly wretched "I don't know how much he already knows... so unless you give him real information..." She paused again but this time didn't continue; the implication was clear.

"I can't" D'Artagnan managed to say, and he was rather proud of himself for it too.

"Of course, of course – I understand. There is still a chance it could work. If I'm quick then he will be dead before getting a chance to discover the deception. Of course if I'm not then he will most definitely kill me... but... but I want to help you, so..."

D'Artagnan internally sighed. She spoke the truth. She was willing to risk her life for him, the least he could do was attempt to ensure her survival. Xavier would be killed so it would be of no consequence if the information was real or not. Resigned to tell the truth, D'Artagnan opened his mouth to speak. However, he had barely the time to draw a breath before he was interrupted by a yell, Xavier's.

"Melusine!"

Melusine's head whipped around to the direction of the yell, her hair swishing as she did so. In an instant the fear and apprehension was gone from her eyes. She glared coldly at d'Artagnan before hurrying out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

D'Artagnan frowned to himself, in his battered state putting two and two together was more arduous a task than it should be. Try as he might the closest he could get was five.

Why had Melusine glared at him like that, they were working together, right?

He was faintly aware of the clash of steel on steel from far away in the house. Maybe she had gone to fight Xavier now, maybe now was his chance to escape. He struggled against his restraints, an action which only succeeded in making him cry out in pain.

There was a thud like that of a body falling to the floor and D'Artagnan froze so as to listen better. He hoped against hope that Melusine had been the victor. He couldn't bear the thought that an innocent such as her had given her life for him.

Footsteps rapidly approached. Two sets. Melusine and Antoinette maybe? It sounded like they were dragging something. Had they only knocked Xavier unconscious and were now bringing him to lock up here in D'Artagnan's stead?

The footsteps neared the door and D'Artagnan tensed. What if Xavier had won, and it was him now returning victorious with an unconscious, or worse, Melusine? No, there were two sets of footprints. And Xavier would have been caught by surprise. The door was pushed slowly open.

It had to be her, it had to be.

* * *

Oops... I appear to have done a cliffhanger... forgive me? :)

(has everyone guessed what's going to happen? I don't really know how obvious it is... to me it's really obvious but I know so...)

As always, please review - maybe say your guesses for what's going to be behind the door when it opens. Reviews are like narwhals, the best substitute there is for unicorns :)


	12. Chapter 12

Is this the quickest I've updated so far? I'm not sure but anyway here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy! :)

* * *

It was her.

But that really didn't seem like the victory it would have a few moments ago. A smirk replaced the timid smile on her face, her hair swished with each step as she strode confidentially into the room.

Xavier followed, very much conscious, dragging a limp body behind him. Aramis.

"No!" D'Artagnan yelled, and struggled against his restraints, ignoring the wave of pain this action caused in his abused arm.

Xavier laughed. Not the typical evil villain laugh that D'Artagnan had come to expect in these situations, but a pure laugh of humour which left D'Artagnan feeling as though he'd rather missed the funny aspect of the situation.

"To think" Xavier began "We went to all that trouble of formulating a plan, getting you to trust my darling Mel, and then the solution to our problems just runs straight through our doorway." He smiled and dumped Aramis in the centre of the room.

From his position D'Artagnan couldn't tell if his fellow musketeer was unconscious or dead, but by the sounds of things Xavier was planning on using him to force D'Artagnan to cooperate – so he must still be alive.

"Let him go" D'Artagnan said, the weight of the threat lost somewhat considering he was shackled to the wall and entirely at his captors mercy.

"Alright, we will" Xavier said cheerfully "You agree, Mel?"

"I'd rather keep him" She said playfully "I'd gotten rather bored with the other one"

"Oh well that's that then" Xavier said with a fake sigh "Sorry old friend, you know how it is – women. Can't live with them, can't live without them, eh?"

D'Artagnan didn't know who he was angrier with, Xavier or Melusine. Xavier was just a murdering psychopath, but Melusine had made him trust her. He knew he would get revenge on them both, as soon as he got out of here. Before, he had been resigned to die. It was a fair price for Athos' life. Now, however, he had a purpose to escape. He had to save Aramis; he had to make both Xavier and Melusine pay for what they did. He had a goal, he knew what he needed to do. He just had to figure out how...

He looked down at Aramis again. The idiot, he thought ruefully, brave idiot of course, but an idiot none the less. He looked like he would be more a hindrance that a help to D'Artagnan's escape at this point. He had a bleeding wound on the side of his head and a shallow gash across the palm of his sword hand. His left ankle was either sprained or worse.

"Oh darling" Melusine said "You don't mean that, do you? You love me really"

"Of course, you're my beautiful cherry blossom" Xavier lightly kissed the top of her head, the gesture of affection looking completely alien coming from him

"Does that me I get first go with the new one?" Melusine asked sweetly "I had to keep up the act with the other so I didn't even get a turn"

"Alright" Xavier grudgingly agreed "But don't get carried away. We don't want him dying too quickly like the last one."

"Oh but that was an accident, how was I to know he would bleed so much?" She pouted at him grumpily.

Xavier just smiled and gave her an open armed shrug "Whatever you say, cherry blossom"

"I know better this time" She whined "I have grown up" the last sentence was said slowly with mock sophistication, accompanied by a sweeping hand gesture to show her poise and elegance.

"I'm giving you first go, aren't I? Just be careful, is all" He strolled backwards out of the room, waving to D'Artagnan before pulling the door shut behind him.

Melusine rubbed her hands together gleefully as she looked down at Aramis. D'Artagnan just scowled at her, hating the fact that this was the full extent of his arsenal for the time being.

"Wakey wakey" She said in a sing song voice, shaking Aramis' shoulder with her foot.

His eyes opened slowly and he blinked around the room, cursing under his breath when he realised where he was.

"Time to get up" Melusine said, in the same tone as before.

Aramis pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, but didn't get further before Melusine slammed her boot into the side of his face. The force sent him back to the floor and he scowled up at her. She laughed, oblivious to the fact that she was being faced with the 'I could kill you in ten seconds and just might if you don't shut up' stare.

"Aw, has the musketeer got an owie? Do you want me to kiss it better?"

D'Artagnan tensed as he prepared for what was about to happen, Melusine had seriously underestimated the musketeers, leaving Aramis unrestrained.

He got to his feet in an instant this time, instinct taking over. In a matter of seconds he had one of Melusine's arms twisted behind her back and his own arm around her throat.

"Xavier!" She called out "Xavier, he's not playing fair!" She struggled against him and kicked back against his injured ankle. His grip loosened slightly and he was trying to regain it when Xavier walked calmly into his room, a loaded pistol in his hand.

"Nice try" he said "If you were being held captive by a single unarmed woman you just might have escaped"

He aimed the pistol at D'Artagnan's head.

"Let her go"

Aramis scowled but released Melusine and shoved her toward Xavier.

"Good" Xavier said "Now your friend here hasn't been cooperating, it's obvious by now that he probably never will. There's really no reason why we don't just kill him now."

Aramis didn't answer, didn't need to, he knew what was coming.

"Unless, of course, you feel more talkative"

"Bad move" Aramis said

"I fail to see how" Xavier said, frowning at Melusine in mock confusion. "We have your friend's life in our hands and you at our mercy – which, I must tell you, is virtually nonexistent."

"If you kill him then you have nothing that will make me talk. You threaten him because you know I would die myself before betraying the king, but if he dies you have nothing"

"Most people aren't willing to bet their friend's life that we are bluffing"

"I'm very good at betting, I was taught by someone who rarely looses"

"Rarely, not never. You really want his death on your conscience?"

It seemed for a while like Aramis was going to stand his ground but then he sighed in frustration and held his hands out.

"No. Go on then, tie me up"

Xavier smiled.

"Nice try" he said, pulling Aramis' arms behind his back and tying them, instead of in front which Aramis had been hoping for.

"Now, Melusine, you can have your fun with both of them. Just keep them alive until I return."

He left and the atmosphere in the room chilled even further. Melusine flashed a predatory grin at D'Artagnan.

"How much do you think it will take until your friend cracks? Will I need to have you begging for mercy at my feet before he will talk?"

"He will never betray the king" D'Artagnan said confidently.

"Honestly D'Artagnan" Aramis said with a sigh "What have you gotten us into this time?"

* * *

So that happened. Did you guess right? Poor D'Artagnan just can't catch a break. I might have to give him a unicorn once this fanfic is over to make up for it... IF HE SURVIVES! MWU HA HA, MWU HA HA, MWU HA HA HA HAAA! *cough cough* Sorry about that, I seem to have caught a bit of evil, well, we all know what the cure for that is,

Reviews!

(and chocolate, obviously)

And in reply to a review from Debbie, I was just thinking the same thing after writing this chapter - and now he's got his Harley Quinn. That was completely unplanned as I was writing but I can totally see it now.

Also, do you think it's time to check back on Athos and Porthos? Tell me what you think in a review :)


	13. Chapter 13

Ta daaa! I know this one is short but the quick update makes up for it, right? Right?

Enjoy :)

* * *

"Porthos" Athos half whispered into the darkness of the night "Porthos!"

Porthos stirred and blinked sleepily at him.

"What are you - ?" He propped himself up on his elbow and blinked at Athos again "So you're awake then?"

"What's going on? Where are D'Artagnan and Aramis?"

"I dunno, D'Art said he was gonnameetafrien' or something'" Porthos closed his eyes again and lay back on the grass with his back faced towards Athos.

"Porthos!"

"Eugh!" Porthos sat up straight this time and frowned at Athos

"Porthos, wake up and tell me what's going on. Are they in danger?"

Porthos yawned "They'll be back soon, in a few hours"

"A few hours from when!"

"This morning, left yesterday after-" he yawned again

Porthos closed his eyes again and went to lie back down.

"Yesterday afternoon? That means they've been gone for over a day, Porthos!"

Porthos' eyes snapped open and he stared alertly at Athos.

"Damn! I fell asleep. Stayed up through yesterday and last night making sure you didn't die on us..."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't remember?"

"I-"

"Doesn't matter, I gotta go after them, they could be in trouble."

"You're not going anywhere without me"

"No, you stay here" Porthos said as he stood up and grabbed his sword from where it lay near him on the grass. "Try and stay awake" He started down the path at a fast pace.

"Porthos!"

"What?"

"You run in waving your sword, what then? Without a plan you're only going to get them killed"

"If I don't go now, they will be."

"At least let me come with you"

"You really don't remember anything?"

Athos shook his head lightly.

"Well you took a bullet to the head! We thought you were dead, alright? And now you want to go and risk your life again?"

Athos touched his hands to his head in confusion as if searching for the bullet wound. He winced as his hands brushed over the bandage.

"I don't understand –"

"And there's no time to explain" Porthos started walking again

"Porthos!"

"What?!"

"Just let me come with you. I promise I won't get into any fights"

"Yeah, you reckon you can keep that promise if we find those bastards torturing D'Artagnan and Aramis?"

Athos was silent for just a moment too long.

"Right" Porthos started walking again, this time he didn't stop when Athos called his name.

~~~xxxxx~~~

D'Artagnan didn't scream. It wasn't because he didn't want to seem weak in front of Aramis (though if he was honest he didn't) or even that he didn't want to give Melusine the satisfaction (and he definitely didn't) but because he didn't want Antoinette to hear. He had remembered her belatedly, when he had seen how Xavier acted towards Melusine. It reminded him that even men like him had people who cared about them and the gentle doctor was among them. She was blind to her brother's... habits. And if he could D'Artagnan would keep it that way, she didn't need that horror in her life. Or worse, if she knew she may try and stop him and D'Artagnan wasn't sure that Xavier would stop short of murdering his own sister. Instead he put all his effort into steadying his breathing enough to say,

"Is that all you've got?"

Melusine sighed.

"No fair, stop cheating!"

"Cheating?" Aramis asked from his position on the floor, one eyebrow raised.

"He should be screaming, why won't he scream?!" Melusine whined "All the others did..." she added, muttering.

"Hey team!"

_Oh great. And now he's back._ D'Artagnan thought

"You know," Xavier said "A wise man once told me that the most efficient method of interrogation is one which you have no control over. Sounds stupid, right?" He asked no one in particular "I thought so too, I chopped his head off..." He paused for a moment as if reliving happy memories. "But then I thought about it some more and I realised he was right. Well, it was too late for him the poor man, but I boiled his head and I now keep his skull on my mantel piece as a reminder of his wisdom – and it's a very serviceable candle holder but that's by the by. You see, what he meant was something similar to what you were saying earlier, musketeer" He said, facing Aramis "I wouldn't pull the trigger, no. Because in most situations that either means losing the information, or losing your bargaining power. So people can mostly withhold what they like with no fear of any real consequences. Apart from the pain of course." He said this with a grin aimed at D'Artagnan. "But! If you don't have control over whether your captive lives or dies, well, that's when things really start hotting up. You dangle a prisoner over a cliff edge, he's holding on by his fingertips. Do you know how long he can hold on for? No! Course not. But he does, and he knows that at some point he'll have to let go and then it will just be wheeeeeeeee! Splat! And I wouldn't have time to react. So he asks, nice and polite, just before his fingers finally give up their grip on life 'Excuse me, sir? Would you mind letting me up? I'll be ever so talkative I swear" and then they start blabbing." He wheeled around to face D'Artagnan, and grinned that horrible grin of his.

"How long can you hold your breath for? No! Don't tell me. We'll have ever so much fun finding out"

* * *

Well there we have it. I think you can tell what the next chapter will involve and I'm still convalescing after a bad case of evil. D'Artagna may be in... TROUBLE, MWU HA HA, MWU HA HA HA- excuse me...

Please review :) (see, I said please, I can be nice)


	14. Chapter 14

So here it is at last, so sorry for the long wait but exams and christmas and stuff. There may be quite a lot of mistakes because I wanted to get this chapter up before the first episode of series 2.

Anyway, enjoy :)

* * *

Porthos was half considering turning back, for though he knew he could never abandon Aramis and D'Artagnan, this house was proving bloody impossible to find. He had just upped and run off in the hope he would stumble upon it, he hadn't even brought a horse for God's sake! It couldn't be too far though, that's what he kept telling himself, just a little bit further and you'll save them.

But the voice at the back of his mind wouldn't shut up. You're too late, it goaded, you're too late and they're already dead and you'll rush in brandishing your sword to find their corpses gazing sightlessly at the ceiling and a laughing psychopath ready to cut you down too.

It wasn't right, it couldn't be. This was Aramis and D'Artagnan, they just couldn't be dead.

Surprisingly enough this thought did little to comfort him.

~~~xxxxx~~~

Aramis had remained silent the entire time Xavier had been filling up the bath with water. They had dragged it in from Melusine's bathroom, momentarily leaving the musketeers alone but Aramis didn't even think he could even walk let alone run and his hands were still tied. They would have to wait for a longer distraction. Or of course rescue, but the thought of either Athos or Porthos fighting in their condition was worrying.

"You don't want to change your mind about the whole betraying your king and country thing?" asked Xavier casually while tipping the final bucket into the bath.

Aramis' stony faced glare was wasted on the back of Xavier's head, but his continued silence was taken as an answer.

"Alright, if you're sure." Xavier shook his head slowly in mock disappointment. "Cherry pie, you may do the honours" he said graciously with a sweeping gesture towards the now full bath.

"Really? Oh thank you, see, this is why I love you" Melusine said excitedly, like a child who's parent had just bought them an entire cake to eat by themselves.

She grabbed d'Artagnan roughly by his arms and shoved him forward, her hand on the back of his head waiting for Xavier's word.

"Remember" Xavier said, turning towards Aramis. The mask of sanity in place, or perhaps the mask of insanity removed – it was proving rather difficult to tell which. "You have the power to stop this, to save him. Just say what I want to hear and you will both walk free."

"We will never betray the king" D'Artagnan spat angrily.

A nod from Xavier and his head was plunged down into the water.

His eyes stung and he squeezed them shut against the water. The suddenness of Melusine's movement meant that he hadn't had time to draw in a breath before being submerged and was already struggling to last with only half a lungful of air. He just prayed that Aramis wouldn't give in and talk. He had to stay strong, though his lungs burned and he was starting to feel light-headed he wouldn't struggle or look desperate. For Aramis at least, he had to seem in control. He felt anything but.

~~~xxxxx~~~

Porthos had now reached the point where the journey back would be just as long and arduous as the one to his current location... wherever that was exactly...

His side had begun to ache and he was forced to slow his movements lest he tear the stitches or aggravate the wound more. Already having exhausted his prayers and pleas for his friend's lives he had moved on to cursing everything from a breeze that blew dry earth into his eyes to a particularly obstinate tree root that refused to move out of way and, most certainly, intentionally tripped him up.

But he wouldn't let any of that deter him from his goal. It wouldn't be that long now. The place couldn't be that far away. He knew the journey probably felt longer because of the heat and the pain in his side but he had surely been going for a good while now and just over this next hill the place would be waiting for him. Just a little further.

He had walked so far though; it couldn't hurt to just rest his eyes, just for a little bit, could it? It wouldn't be for long and then he would be able to fight to his full ability. Just a little rest...

~~~xxxxx~~~

Aramis watched d'Artagnan's lungs contract and expand in a desperate bid to draw in oxygen that wasn't there.

Aramis had been holding his own breath along with the younger musketeer for the beginning but his body had rebelled and forced him to breathe. Now he just watched in helpless silence as d'Artagnan slowly died before his very eyes.

He couldn't just let this happen, no king was worth this.

They had sworn allegiance, they had honour, but no right thinking man could watch a friend suffer like this knowing they could stop it.

Hating himself, but knowing it would be so much worse if he just allowed d'Artagnan to die, he turned to Xavier.

"I'll tell you what you want, just stop this!"

"Not good enough..." Xavier trilled "Melusine won't stop until the information is in our hands"

_I am _really_ going to enjoy killing you._ Aramis thought, but right now Xavier had them exactly where he wanted them.

~~~xxxxx~~~

The gun lay on the bedside cabinet. Such an innocent object in itself, without a hand to pull the trigger it held as much danger as a baguette. It had never killed a person. It had been used as a tool, sure. It had on numerous occasions been instrumental in bringing about someone's untimely demise. But it had never killed a person. The finger pulled the trigger and sealed its enemy's fate and the gun would fire the bullet because it knew nothing else. Its world consisted of the flash and the bang but never the fallout. No, guns didn't kill people – people killed people*. And they did so far too often at that. There are times when it feels like you are the only real person in the world. That you are the only one with thoughts, a conscience, a perception of reality. But if you allowed yourself to believe that for too long then you started down a dark path which you would find it hard to steer away from. If you even began to think about what made you, _you_ – what the church called your soul – it was just too much. Despite all their preaching and supposed piety, most men should dread the existence of a heaven as it would be mostly full of people who would be none too pleased to meet with them again. If God would truly absolve you of all your sins, if he would let a condemned mass murderer through the pearly gates on the grounds of a last minute confession then you would just be going from one desolate nightmare to another. So did it matter, when it got down to it, the type of life you led? If you were good or bad? Who was there to judge? The priests up on their high horses with their stolen words? Life was just a string of questions, death more so. What did anything really matter?

Xavier had used up all the water again, she ought to go fetch some more.

Antoinette rose from the edge of her brother's bed and set off towards the well, the gun lay forgotten – a facilitator of death, the picture of innocence.

* * *

* Okay, is anyone else thinking that she's not as unlike her brother as she seemed now? Cause that wasn't my fault, honest...

Ta daaa...? I feel so evil :(

Next chapter though things could start looking up for our boys, Porthos may be closer than he thinks... (so subtle, I know)

So I will try to upload the next one as soon as possible, at least by the end of next week, hopefully sooner, I will be able to type faster after reading reviews (fact)

Thanks for reading:)


	15. Chapter 15

By Aramis' frilly underwear (you know that's what he wears)! This has been so long! I am really really sorry – Gerold is giving me the evils as I am writing this and rightly so!

Thanks you so much to everyone who reviewed and favourite and followed while I have been gone – it really is appreciated even though it may not seem like it when the author disappears for 6 months (6 months!).

I mean, seriously, there's writer's block and then there's this... I think I must have had writer's concrete wall...

... Blame Xavier?

Anywho! On with the story, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Antoinette strolled away from the house towards the well, humming a tune as she went. She had liked the men down by the river... well, perhaps not the one who almost killed her but he did kind of grow on you.

She had done the best she could – the wounded man should survive – just as long as his friend returned soon and they were able to go home.

It would be fine, though, house guests normally only stayed a week, maximum. She probably wouldn't see him again before he left – at least not to say goodbye, which was a shame. Then again, she didn't know him that well and it might be awkward.

Still humming, Antoinette meandered down the little cobbled path at the back of the house but then she suddenly froze, humming silenced.

There was a man leaning against the side of their well.

Her first thought was to rush back to the house and fetch Xavier but it was then that she realised he was one of the men from before. He had been talking to the gun-maniac quite a lot.

Doctorly instincts took over and she hurried to the man's side – quickly discovering that he was merely asleep, no doubt exhausted from the long walk here with what was clearly a healing gunshot wound in his side. There was no sign of infection, the bullet seemed to have managed to avoid any vital organs and was cleaned and stitched quickly.

No, his health wasn't a major concern to her really. What was an issue was the fact that he had walked all the way here from their makeshift camp, in pain, with no horse. No-one did that without a very good reason.

She glanced back to the house briefly.

~~~xxxxx~~~

"Please!"

The smile on Xavier's face at that one word would have sent shivers down Aramis' spine if he wasn't so desperate, distracted by D'Artagnan.

"You don't have to do this" An appeal to the man's humanity, though most likely futile, was all that Aramis had left in his arsenal now.

"But I want to" Xavier said, faintly puzzled, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I said I would tell you so just let him go!"

"Stupid little musketeers" Xavier sang "It's never been about that"

Aramis frowned, from the beginning Xavier had seemed determined to break them, to get them to speak, what was he talking about?

"I don't need you to tell me anything, don't you see? I'm already winning."

At that moment D'Artagnan stopped struggling to breath, and went limp in Melusine's hold. Aramis snapped into action, stamping his good foot down on Xavier's toes and slamming his head back into the other man's face – using the distraction to twist free and sweep Melusine's legs out from under her. He heard the click of a gun being cocked but D'Artagnan was still lying still with his head underwater so Aramis manoeuvred his hands to drag the younger musketeer to the relative safety of the stone floor. Only then did he look up to see Xavier aiming his pistol directly at Aramis' head.

Xavier's finger squeezed the trigger gently, Aramis tensed. There was a click, a chilling laugh, and a crack as the gun was brought down on Aramis' head and the room faded to black.

* * *

Really short I know but after 6 months I just wanted to upload at least one chapter – on the weekend there will be a longer chapter or two and this time I seriously mean it. You all have permission to cook and eat Gerold for Sunday roast if there isn't at least one longer chapter by Monday.

Also Aramis is awesome, but you knew that.

And of course, reviews, please Even if they are just raging at my writer's concrete wall...


	16. Chapter 16

I did it! I said I would and I did and here is a chapter and it's (slightly) longer and Gerold has a party hat on and I have used far too many 'and's in this sentence!  
But I did it! High five! WOoo hoooO! Partayyyy! High five! High five?... What do you mean 'normal people keep their promises anyway'?

Bah, enjoy the chapter...

* * *

When Aramis opened his eyes it took them a moment too long to focus in the dark cellar. A brief sweep of the room confirmed that he and D'Artagnan had been left alone, but both were tied by their arms to the wall.

"D'Artagnan!" He hissed, as loudly as he dared. "Are you awake?"

There was no response from the boy, which was worrying. Aramis had no idea how long his friend could hold his breath and even if he did he had neglected to count the time that D'Artagnan spent underwater. It was near-impossible from Aramis' position to even tell if the boy was still breathing.

"D'Artagnan!" He repeated, louder this time.

"'m here..." D'Artagnan mumbled in response, and Aramis relaxed slightly.

"Are you alright?" Aramis asked with concern

"You mean apart from the broken arm, lacerated back and near drowning? Just dandy – you?"

"No need to be sarcastic about it."

"Sorry, I know – we're in the same situation here. I meant it when I asked how you were though"

"Fine." Was Aramis' brief response, he knew it was slightly hypocritical of him after berating the younger musketeer about his own report – but D'Artagnan didn't need to be worrying about Aramis as well as himself. Aramis' own private assessment concluded that he had a probable concussion, sprained ankle and a healing cut on his sword hand which would make it painful to fight, but not impossible.

"Aramis..." D'Artagnan's tone of voice conveyed his meaning clearly.

"I can fight, I'm fine – it's you we should worry about."

"Well, thank you." D'Artagnan said sarcastically, frowning

"You know what I mean." Aramis replied with a sigh. They were both fed up with being stuck down here at that psychopath's non-existent mercy but they had no cause to fight with each other – they needed to get their act together if they were going to escape from this.

***xxxxx***

Antoinette paused for about the tenth time on her journey from the well back to the house. If this stubborn idiot would just wake up it would make life a lot easier for her.

She shook his shoulder again, knowing how ineffectual that had been the first God-knows-how-many times but not willing to give up.

_Ah well _– she thought – _on we go..._

She positioned her hands back under the large man's arms and continued dragging him slowly homeward.

***xxxxx***

"Straight to business this time, no more niceties" Xavier said sternly, receiving a chuckle from Melusine.

"No, but really" He said with a smile and a chuckle himself "Disobedience like that will not go unpunished."

Aramis frowned as he listened to this.

"You remember, boy, what I said when you arrived?"

Aramis glanced over at his friend; it seemed that D'Artagnan remembered very well from the expression on his face.

"I've done everything you said, you psychopath."

Xavier just chuckled again.

"Yes, you've been a very good little boy but the same cannot be said, I'm afraid, for your friend over here."

"Athos and Porthos will know something is wrong, they will come for us!" Aramis insisted, but truly he hoped that they wouldn't – he hoped that at least Athos had enough sense to get the two of them back to Paris to send word to Treville.

"Your friends down by the stream? Well, let's just say we can be pretty sure they're not coming to save you..."

"Gilipollas*" Aramis muttered. Xavier must be bluffing, he thought, there was no time for anyone to have reached the stream already... unless... How long had they been unconscious?

"Now now, what would your mother say if she heard you using language like that? I know my own mother would have been outraged, God rest her soul..."

"Me cago en tu puta madre!**"

Xavier moved faster than Aramis had anticipated and grabbed the musketeer roughly by his collar. Melusine seemed to know what her lover was planning and moved around to untie Aramis' arms from the wall. D'Artagnan watched with a confused expression and Aramis wanted to reassure him but was just as puzzled himself.

"What did you say about my mother?"

Aramis remained silent, unsettled by the madman's actions and already regretting his earlier words.

Xavier pulled him around so his back was facing the adjacent wall and Aramis could feel something sharp digging into his back.

"I asked you a question musketeer, what did you say about my mother?" Xavier yelled.

_Ah well _– Aramis thought – _There's no getting out of this one_

"Tu madre es una puta.**" He spat, perhaps allowing the rage at Xavier's implications about Athos and Porthos to get the better of him but if it was true, if they really were dead…

Xavier pushed Aramis hard so that his back was flat against the wall, knocking the air out of him. He heard D'Artagnan yell and for a long moment was confused. What was Xavier's game?

He was suddenly aware of a sharp pain in his side and he looked down, not sure what he was expecting to see. What he did see however made his breathing falter. He remembered now that something had been digging into his back, and it turned out that that something was a long rusty nail sticking out of the wall that Aramis was now impaled on. Blood stained his shirt around where the nail was sticking out beneath his ribs.

Aramis looked up again at D'Artagnan's panicked face, wanting desperately to tell his friend that it would be fine, they'd get out of there – but right then he knew that his own face mirrored the younger musketeer's fear and he was expending too much effort to keep his breathing slow instead of hyperventilating.

He wanted then more than ever to wipe that stupid grin of their maniac captor's face, preferably with a bullet and/or Porthos' fist but right now staying conscious was taking up most of his available energy and try as he might he couldn't even muster up the strength to swear at the bastard again.

"Nice talking to you both" Xavier said and promptly left the room – looking very smug and pleased with himself.

Melusine swiftly followed, with a swish of her long hair and a sneer.

This left Aramis and D'Artagnan alone in silence. Silence from Aramis because he was more than a little distracted for the time being, and silence from D'Artagnan because the shock would take a little while to wear off. Silence that made Aramis' laboured breaths all the more obvious and meant that each drop of blood splashed onto the cold stone floor with an audible 'plink'.

Time passed. In the dark cellar it may as well have stood still for all the difference it made.

* * *

* - Bastard

** - I shit on your bitch of a mother

*** - Your mother is a bitch

Yeah...

Not feeling quite as much in the mood for partying now...

I'm a terrible person – if anyone wants to suggest how Xavier should die, feel free to do so in a review...

Thanks for reading


	17. Chapter 17

Another chapter! I know I'm ridiculously slow uploading each chapter – I write them as I go which results in long breaks and outrageous continuity errors. But this is kind of my first fanfic so I'm learning . Anyway I had a point to this... oh yeah! Thank you everyone who is still reading and putting up with me, it really makes me happy whenever I see a new review, follow or favourite so yeah...

That was weird, I was almost nice for a moment there...

Well, enjoy

* * *

"D'Artagnan, I - "

D'Artagnan looked up, this was the first time Aramis had spoken in what seemed like a very long time and he didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

"What's the matter?" He asked, suddenly feeling like an idiot for asking a question for which there was such an obvious answer. "Aside from , you know..." He added it attempt to redeem himself.

Aramis almost laughed but it ended up as more of a sob and his hands tightened where they where clenched against his side.

"D'Artagnan... Do you think..."

"What?"

"Do you... Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"Hmm?"

"Xavier..."

"What about?" D'Artagnan asked but he knew what Aramis meant, he just wanted to delay the moment when he would have to answer.

"'Bout Athos and Porthos..."

"They'll be fine" D'Artagnan said dismissively, too quickly.

Aramis just sighed and closed his eyes.

"Aramis, come on, no time for sleeping now" D'Artagnan said, trying to mask his fear.

"'m awake" Aramis said sleepily, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Then just, open your eyes, yeah?"

Aramis opened his eyes and blinked rapidly.

"Sorry" He mumbled.

"Don't worry. It's fine. _We're _fine"

"Of... course... Why... why wouldn't we be?"

x-x-x-x

Porthos was suddenly aware that he was moving. That could only be bad. He realised he must have fallen asleep by that old well and someone had found him.

He tried to listen without letting them know he was awake. As long as they thought he was asleep he had an advantage. If he could tell how many there were.

"Well done Antoinette" A woman's voice said. "What a great idea – why not drag the bloody heavy unconscious man back to the house? That sound like a fun afternoon!"

She seemed to be ranting to herself, which was... strange. But he recognised the voice – the doctor from earlier. She had saved Athos' life, he could trust her. Hopefully. Like, really, really hopefully...

They stopped moving and he heard her breathing rapidly. He felt slightly insulted but knew that there wasn't really time for that.

He was waiting for the right time to reveal that he was awake, and reckoned that the longer he left it, the more awkward it became.

In the end he decided to be subtle with a cough, like he was just waking up.

"Monsieur?"

"Um... Hello" Porthos said sheepishly, scrabbling to stand now that she knew he was awake.

"Hey hey, no, don't do that!" She warned hurriedly.

Porthos didn't listen, but was forced back to the ground when the attempt reminded him of the not-so-old gunshot wound in his side.

"Okay, yeah, maybe if we start from the beginning" He mumbled.

"I found you unconscious by the well" She explained, although Porthos had figured that much out himself. "I wasn't exactly going to just leave you there was I? I'm a physician before anything else. You made me leave the water behind, actually"

Porthos raised an eyebrow at this.

"You seen Aramis or D'Artagnan?"

"Who ?... Oh. You mean your friends from down by the river? I saw the boy but no, I haven't seen the other one."

"You've seen D'Artagnan? Is he alright?"

"I'm sure he's fine Monsieur, you shouldn't worry about-" She paused, wincing slightly at her own train of thought "Actually, I think he has broken his arm..."

"You think?"

"It was an accident, he was with Xavier but I'm sure he has been well looked after."

"You have no idea do you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Of course not..."

Porthos sighed heavily and looked towards the small cottage in the near-distance.

"Just listen to me... Antoinette?" A nod from the woman. "My friends are in danger, we need a plan"

"Okay" She said tentatively. "Let's hear this plan then"

x-x-x-x

Never had the sound of skipping been so morbid, D'Artagnan thought, but now - at the sight of his pale, still, bleeding friend – he knew that the chipper footsteps good only bring bad news.

Xavier entered with the manic grin once again plastered across his face.

"Hello darlings! Darlings? Or just the one? We shall have to see..."

He took a step closer to Aramis.

"Stay away from him" D'Artagnan growled, the implied threat bore less weight than it could have on account of his current condition.

"You really think that would do him any good now?"

Xavier pressed his fingers against the side of Aramis' neck.

"Yes, just as I thought..." His expression turned dark , though the smile was still present. "Éso es lo que consigues, puta.*"

_No, Xavier is lying just like he lied about Athos and Porthos – he is lying!_

"This has been fun, hasn't it? Mel will be disappointed that she never got to have fun with this one. But then, you're still alive, aren't you Musketeer?"

_No. If he is not lying, if they are all dead then of course I am not alive._

"Mel? Come in here cherry pie!"

"Sorry but I'm going to have to disappoint you. You should have locked the door, dear brother."

* * *

DRAMATIC GASP!

Antoinette to the rescue? We can hope...

Also, dinnae be feart**, Musketeers don't die easily ;)

REVIEW MY STORY YOU PUNY MORTALS!... pls?

*That's what you get, bitch

** Don't worry


	18. Chapter 18

Next chapter is here! No... no, not over there – where are you going?...

Well, those of you still here, enjoy

Or maybe not enjoy, actually. Sorry about his chapter, maybe some trigger warnings? That's rare in my writing so if someone could clarify in the comments that would be great.

* * *

D'Artagnan watched as if through someone else's eyes.

"A...Annie?" Genuine confusion flickered across Xavier's face- perhaps if you met him in that moment and no other he would seem harmless and young. In any other, of course, he seemed like a merciless psychopath.

"What is going on here, Xav?" The woman looked behind her, as if seeking reassurance to continue. "Did you do this?"

"Me? Annie, why would I do something like this – don't look Annie, I'm sorry, I don't think you can help them now."

Antoinette frowned and looked at where Aramis was slumped against the wall, where D'Artagnan was hanging from the ropes around his wrists.

"You didn't do this? Why are they here, what happened?"

"I didn't mean for them to be hurt, they just came for tea, like I said"

Antoinette nodded slowly.

"I know, I know, but..."

"What, Annie? Baby girl..."

"No!" She shouted suddenly "You don't get to – that was – you can't replace her, Xav! You are not mother, but maybe you are more like father than you thought!"

"I am not like him! I am not! I would never hurt a woman, never! My own wife, my own daughter! Father was like these men. These... Musketeers." The last word was spoken darkly, like the name alone could not express his hatred towards all who bore it.

"What happened to you Xav?" Antoinette asked sadly.

"I grew up! I am looking after us! I am making sure that men like father never get a chance to ruin more lives!"

"They are... they are good men."

"Like father was a good man, a good soldier who murdered his wife and locked his baby girl in a chest with no food or water."

"Xav, I know, you know that I know. Just answer me, did you do this? Have you killed men like this before?"

"Damn it, Annie!"

"Answer me!"

"I had to, to keep you safe." Xavier attempted to explain, moving closer to his sister with his hand out to place on her shoulder.

"You enjoyed it." D'Artagnan spoke up, knowing that the siblings had forgotten his presence in their arguing. "You smiled and laughed while you tortured and killed people, why?"

"Because I am not weak anymore. You are scared of me, aren't you musketeer?"

"Scared? Of you?" D'Artagnan smirked, but when Xavier took a step towards Aramis D'Artagnan held his breath and Xavier laughed.

"See? I'm the strong one. I could crush you, kill you! Good little soldiers, not so tough now when I get to hear you _scream_. I am not scared now, I will not run, I will _destroy_"

"Xavier!" His head whipped round to look at his sister, who now had a gun pointed at her brother's head. "I love you" she sobbed

"Annie, put that down"

"No!" Tears streamed down her face as D'Artagnan wondered if she could even operate the pistol she held so tightly in shaking hands.

A figure stepped out of the shadows in the doorway, slowly.

"Well done" Porthos said softly. "Give me the gun now Antoinette, we've got this."

"No, it's all lies, everything! My life... _I am a lie_. Who I am, Porthos, is wrong! Everything is absolute shit and it's all a lie!" Her hands were grasped so tightly now around the pistol that D'Artagnan doubted it could be taken from her easily.

"My brother." She looked at Xavier, the gun still aimed at his head. "What do I do?"

"You put that gun down now Annie, and you come over here. I will sort everything out. It will be fine."

"Okay, okay" Antoinette began to lower the gun slowly, stepping forward to her brother waiting arms. Still holding the gun loosely in one hand she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"Antoinette, think about this, he is a murderer!" Porthos reasoned.

"Brother" She whispered. "That which set you free has killed us both. Though I refuse to live another day in darkness, I still hope you go now to the light. You have sinned, but perhaps the sins against you outweigh your own guilt. Perhaps the lord feels merciful today, and the cut-throats and thieves skip happily into paradise. How else might any man be granted entry, truly? The fires of hell burn only for monsters. Which are you, brother? Choose wisely, you'll have forever to regret your choice."

A gunshot rang out.

* * *

Okay, so, wow...

Pretty short and OC heavy I know but I felt that explanation was in order near the end of the story.

Sorry to have such a morbid chapter really...

Yeah... I think I just turned the disturbing levels up to 11...

Reviews will be given hugs... consoling hugs on account of the morbid...

I don't even...


	19. Chapter 19

It's almost like I'm updating at a normal speed now! Are you proud? Are you PROUD?

Enjoy :)

* * *

A gunshot rang out, and a body fell heavily to the floor, soul already departed.

Antoinette stood staring in horror at the corpse that was only a moment ago her own dear brother. She turned around slowly, spinning on her heel to see the man, Porthos, lowering his smoking gun.

"You...I don't..." Her eyes were wide and her arms were still shaking, but no tears threatened to fall. For tears to be shed, your mind had to process what had happened. She knew she was far from that.

"Please..." She didn't know what she was asking for but she knew she needed something. Maybe she just needed for something to happen so that time didn't remain frozen at the moment of her brother's death.

"Alright, it's okay" Porthos comforted, but moved past her, a light touch to her arm the only indication that he was aware of her presence at all.

He went straight to the man who had fallen against the wall. Who looked dead already, to tell the truth. More death at her brother's hand. Xavier had deserved to –

No, no-one deserved to die. But sometimes when faced with such horrors, it was the only way to prevent more suffering for everyone.

She couldn't deal with this right now, she was sure she would contemplate it deeply later. Surely under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol.

For now she turned towards Porthos where he was crouched beside his dead friend. She thought of how desperate they had been to save that friend of theirs who had been shot in the head (where was he now?) and was certain that none of them would take this lightly.

"Help me" Porthos said. "I don't know how to deal with this."

He was asking her for help? She had just lost her brother, wasn't it clear she wasn't the person to turn to for support?

"Aramis is the medic among us, I can't save him Antoinette. I need you."

He was still alive.

Shit.

No, good, but she had to... she had to... shit!

What did she do?

This was good, very good. He was still alive, he could be saved.

Something clicked in Antoinette's mind and she was able to put aside the grief and uncertainty for a moment and turn to full medic mode. This man was still alive, she had to save him.

"Alright" She said, moving to crouch beside Porthos. From her position she could hear the other man's ragged breathing.

Up close she suddenly recognised him as the gun wielder from before. The name, Aramis – they had spoken before. It was strange to see him like this now.

"Nothing vital has been hit." Xavier made sure of that, he had wanted the other man to watch his friend, Aramis, bleed to death slowly.

"You sure?" Porthos asked.

She forgave his comment, knowing he was only concerned for Aramis.

"If it had, he'd be dead already. He's been here a while... He's lost a lot of blood."

Not too much. She wouldn't say that yet.

"Don't we need to move him?" The third man asked, after being silent for a long while.

"We will. But currently the only thing that has stopped him bleeding out already is this." She gestured to the nail that was poking grotesquely out of Aramis' side.

"So what do we do?" Porthos asked, halfway through untying the other man.

The man suddenly cried out in pain when Porthos attempted to pull his wrists free from the rope.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Arm." The man said succinctly through gritted teeth.

"Is it broken?" Porthos seemed suddenly, if possible, more concerned than before.

The other man managed a nod with his jaw clenched and eyes screwed closed.

Porthos twisted round to look at Aramis, then back to the other man. He seemed to be trying to decide who needed his attention more.

"Porthos, I need you to see if you can wake Aramis, and keep him awake. When he's lost this much blood I'm not sure if it's safe to leave him unconscious."

"Yes, sure." He looked again at the other man, still unwilling to leave him, but desperate to help Aramis.

"I'm just going to get my things, I will be able to help him when I get back but I think there's chance that if you don't wake him now..." He might never wake up.

Porthos nodded and moved again across to where Aramis was.

Antoinette stood and, stepping over the body of her brother, left the room.

*****xxxxx*****

Porthos gently shook Aramis' shoulder, not sure how otherwise to proceed.

"D'Artagnan!" He called.

D'Artagnan looked up, now cradling his injured arm in his lap and free from his bonds.

"Can you stand?"

D'Artagnan nodded and began to stand up, only to sway on his feet and immediately fall back down.

"Just give me a minute" He mumbled.

Porthos turned back to Aramis.

"Come on, Aramis, wake up... Please."

Aramis' eyelids fluttered but he didn't stir.

"Please... Aramis!" He shock his friend harder, more concerned now that he had to wake up than about causing him more pain.

Aramis coughed.

"Come on Aramis, open your eyes."

He did then, blinking ferociously.

"Por-" He tried to speak but just began coughing more, struggling to draw breath.

"Calm down, calm down, it's alright"

"No... D'Art..."

"He's fine, Aramis... well, as fine as he was the last time you saw him..."

Aramis still wouldn't _breathe,_ coughing and gasping and wincing every time he moved.

"D'Artagnan!" Porthos called urgently

"I'm here, Aramis look at me, I'm fine, calm down, it's alright."

Porthos raised an eyebrow at this but didn't say anything, mostly for Aramis' sake but partly because of the glare that D'Artagnan shot at him.

Aramis' breathing was still far from normal, but at least now his frantic breaths were actually drawing in air. His eyes were unfocused and it was clear that the blood loss and pain prevented him from fully knowing or remembering what was happening.

"I'm back!"

Antoinette scurried into the room and joined Porthos and D'Artagnan where they were crouched awkwardly on the floor.

"We have to move him." She said.

Porthos nodded, waiting for the inevitable 'but'.

"But, the bedrooms are too far away to just carry him like this. We will have to pull him off of the nail and lay him on the floor for now, and then I can try to stop the bleeding here – wrap a bandage tightly. Porthos and I will have to carry him to a bedroom afterwards, it's not clean here even though it's likely the wound is already infected we can make sure we can at least clean it properly now. There's better light to stitch or cauterize – I'm not sure which yet – in the bedrooms as well."

"What are we waiting for then? Sounds simple enough..." Porthos said, with only a hint of sarcasm.

* * *

Next chapter will be fun!... Well, not for Aramis...

Please review! Almost at 100 reviews for this story which is awesome :D Thank you


	20. Chapter 20

**I snail could write chapters faster than be, not that that's saying much - I heard rumours that Shakespeare was actually 50 snails in a ruff...**

**But anyway, here is the chapter - and it is a one. A chapter, that is.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

Aramis screamed.

Porthos tried to block out the sounds as they pulled Aramis away from the wall. They had to do this to save him, once they had finished, Aramis would be fine. But the desperate repetition of this in his mind did little to help him believe it, to ignore his brother's screams.

"Lower him gently now" Antoinette said, as if Porthos needed to be reminded to be careful with the wounded musketeer.

The screams died down but Aramis still breathed erratically as they lay him down on the floor.

Antoinette made quick work of removing most of Aramis clothing, leaving him in only his breeches. Then she grabbed a roll of bandages and tore a wad to press against the wound.

"Keep pressure on this" She instructed Porthos, guiding his hands onto the bandages. "It will hurt him but you must press as hard as you can"

Porthos knew this, had been told it many times before by Aramis himself. He pressed hard down on the wound and resisted the urge to turn his head away at the sight of Aramis' feeble efforts to escape what he could only see as someone hurting him more.

"It's alright" Porthos comforted "It's me, I'm here – you're going to be fine"

Aramis looked up at him, frowning.

"What?..." He tried to speak again, the result being much the same as his panicked breathing led to more coughing which only served to panic him more.

"Calm down, you're going to be fine, it's alright..." Porthos couldn't honestly say if these were simply meaningless reassurances or a promise to his friend. Though he would be inclined to think the latter, it would be promise that he might have to break.

"Alright" Antoinette gently nudged Porthos out of the way and began to wrap the bandages tightly around the wound. "You will help me lift him to one of the bedrooms, and then you will return to help your other friend there as well. Aramis is in most urgent need of assistance but once he is stable I need to take a look at the lad. Do you trust me?"

"Ask me again after you've saved Aramis' life or you might not like the answer."

"That is fair"

*****xxxxx*****

Melusine sat up slowly, trying to determine to source of the dreadful ache in her head. Had she and Xavier stayed up drinking? Well, not that she could recall but the list of things she could recall was not all that extensive.

She tried in vain to remember the events that had resulted in her position on the floor of her and Xavier's bedroom, and had probably caused her to miss valuable time with the prisoners too – unfair!

Listening carefully, she could hear faint screams from below.

Oh brilliant, so Xavier had started without her. But at least it sounded like the bastard that had dared to attack her was getting what he deserved.

She stood up gleefully and all but ran to the stairs. Better late than never, yes?

*****xxxxx*****

"One"

Porthos positions his hand carefully underneath Aramis' shoulders while Antoinette grasped his legs.

"Two"

He caught Antoinette's eye and she nodded, signally that she was indeed ready.

"Three"

Together they lifted Aramis off the ground, Porthos hating how he had got used disregarding his friend's complaints and groans of pain in the short time since he found him.

The journey to the bedroom was slow and painful for Aramis, but they made in it as close to one piece as could be hoped for. That is, with all their limbs still attached but an uncomfortable amount of Aramis' blood dotted on the floor along the way.

"Put him down now - on the bed."

Porthos followed the doctor's instructions and they managed to carefully lower Aramis down on the thankfully clean bed.

"Okay, go back for the boy."

Porthos hesitated. Reluctance to leave Aramis battling with concern for D'Artagnan. Neither won out in the end, but he knew logically that he wouldn't be doing Aramis any good by lingering here now while the doctor began her work whereas D'Artagnan was probably in dire need of assistance. He hated to imagine the boy attempting the journey here by himself and it was with that worrying image in his mind that he left the room in the direction of the cellar.

*****xxxxx*****

Melusine was almost at the cellar now but something felt wrong. Xavier would have come and got her, surely, and the screaming had seemed to be coming from another direction just a moment ago. There was another scream, definitely not from the cellar this time and so she made up her mind and turned around. She would figure out was Xavier was up to, it probably had something to do with that bitch sister of his.

Melusine stormed off in the direction of the screams, behind her – unseen – Xavier's empty eyes watched her go.

*****xxxxx*****

Porthos made it back to the cellar without incident. For a moment he had thought he could hear movement around the corner but when he looked there was no-one there. He dismissed the thought, knowing he was paranoid after finding his brothers tortures and dying in the creepy cottage.

The cellar door was open, as they had left it, and the corpse of Xavier still lay sprawled where he had fallen.

"Porthos."

Porthos smiled at D'Artagnan in an attempt at being reassuring. He hoped it had at least worked to some extent, God knows the boy would need it.

"I'm going to help you walk now, which arm is broken?"

D'Artagnan gestured with his other arm and Porthos moved round to his uninjured side to help him up. D'Artagnan put his good arm around Porthos' shoulder and managed to stand, although rather unsteadily.

"Alright?"

D'Artagnan nodded but squeezed his eyes shut, coughing a few times before opening them again and looking ready to go.

"Okay, let's go, slowly down – there's no hurry." There was a slight hurry, Porthos thought. He didn't want to leave Aramis for any longer than was necessary but there was no point in worrying the boy.

"He said you were dead"

"Hmm?"

"Xavier told us that you and Athos were dead."

"You believed him?"

"No." D'Artagnan replied, almost smugly Porthos thought. "No, we knew he would never get the better of you two."

There was silence for a little while longer as they meandered towards the bedroom.

"I think Aramis was worried though."

"Yeah?"

"He said something to Xavier in Spanish – I'm not sure what but I got the general meaning from the tone of voice."

"That sounds like Aramis."

"Yeah, well Xavier didn't take too kindly to the insult."

It didn't take long for Porthos to infer that D'Artagnan was telling the story behind Aramis' current injury.

"That man was insane; the smallest thing could have set him off."

"Yeah, but Aramis would never have been in that situation if he hadn't been defending me."

"And how d'you figure that?"

"They were drowning me, they weren't going to stop I could tell – Aramis must have fought them which was what got Xavier interested in him at all."

"So you think Aramis should have just let you drown? Don't try and make this your fault D'Artagnan, that bastard has killed people like this before – he would have killed you both."

"Aramis wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me."

"You came to save Athos' life, and if I remember you were adamant that you would go alone and it was us who insisted on sending Aramis with you."

Silence from the boy. No doubt he was trying to find a counter-argument to Porthos' statement. When no more arguments came Porthos relaxed a little but he had a feeling this battle was far from over.

"Aramis will be saying the exact same thing, you know? How he should have known what was going on when that doctor miraculously turned up, how he should have followed you into the house immediately. Neither of you are to blame in this, you may as well say it is Athos' fault for getting shot in the first place."

"I'm not saying that."

"I know, but it's the same every time. Everyone blames themselves and it turns into an argument about who's the biggest bastard. Just a warning for the future, don't start that argument before you have escaped – or at least not before you've tried the door."

"I'm guessing there's a story behind that?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

"Unfortunately I can see you three idiots doing just that, so no."

"Yeah, well we have a lot of stories to tell you once this is all over."

"Good ones I hope."

"Define good. There was this one time when the three of us had been captured and our lives depended on Aramis' hat."

"His hat?"

"Like I said, later – once we're back in Paris bored out of our minds from mandatory bed rest."

"Alright, I'll hold you to that though."

"I'd expect nothing less."

*****xxxxx*****

* * *

**It was actually longer this time which is a Good Thing,I hope.**

**I put the A/N in bold just to make it clearer, don't no if that helps but it's easier for me to differentiate.**

**This story might be finished soon, by which I mean in a few chapters' time which does not necessarily mean soon when I am involved. But I had a point, and that was that I am writing a Musketeers AU based on Torchwood but in the time between this being finished and enough of that being written I am going to be doing some random prompt fills. I might start that while this is still going (if I have time, which I hope I will) so it would be awesome if you could PM me with prompts and I will get round to filling them as soon as I can. :)**

**I feel like the length of this A/N makes the chapter seem deceptively long. It is actually longer though, I swear! **

**Naturally, reviews are like an anti-bacterial surface spray - 99.9% effective! (and no, that doesn't make much sense to me either)**


	21. Chapter 21

**I am back! And with chapter too but I guess that was implied... Oui il est encore en retard, mais (!) it is here. **

**Enjoy **

* * *

She was almost there, she could smell it! Or... hear it, or, possibly, taste it? See it? Well. That sorted the problem of why people were always smelling things – it just sounded silly with any other verb.

Which room were they in? Hmm... The floor, follow the blood trails. Yes, they were having fun indeed. And Melusine wanted IN.

*****xxxxx*****

"I think I have to cauterize it, alright? Can you hear me?"

There was no response from the semi-conscious man on the bed.

"Monsieur?"

"Escucho. I'm Listening." He mumbled weakly, but it wasn't really an answer to her question.

"I have to cauterize your wound, alright? Do you understand?"

"Si, yes, yo sé... Deberias... hacer..."

"Monsier?"

"Duele..."

She clearly wasn't going to get any sense out of him.

"Alright well I'm starting the fire now so you should probably, I don't know, brace yourself?"

"La mujer!"

"Shush"

"No, la mujer está aquí!"

"It's alright, don't worry"

*****xxxxx*****

Aramis fell just short of flinging himself from the bed, an act which would have been futile in any case but was impossible in his current situation. And too late. Anything he could have done in that one moment would have been too late.

And so when Melusine entered the room it was all he could do to yell out a warning. A warning which he belatedly resized was in the wrong language. He still couldn't think straight – the pain from his side and growing fever ensured that.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion but it was over in a second, too fast to react. Antoinette lay spawled on the floor from a well placed kick and Melusine advanced towards him.

"Porthos!"

It was the only thing he could think of. He needed Porthos now, where had he gone?"

"Porthos!"

"Who?" Melusine looked confused but only for a moment and then she simply shook her head and advanced again.

"No one is coming. No one can here you. You are going to answer me now. Where is Xavier?"

Aramis didn't answer, not entirely sure. He thought that the maniac must be dead but he couldn't be sure.

And then suddenly blinding pain was all he was aware of, he couldn't have answered had he wanted to. Couldn't have told you his own name.

*****xxxxx*****

The man was screaming and she faintly knew she ought to be enjoying this but where was Xavier. She had felt sure he would be in here – having fun without her (like had often been happening recently). With some effort she lifted her boot from where she had pushed it into the wound in the man's side and sighed. She could hear his panicked gasps as he fought to breathe and smiled. Wherever Xavier was... he could surely wait? After all, why should she let that ruin her fun? He was probably off... sleeping, or something... Yes, and she could have her fun here before he woke up and ruined it for her. This time she would be carful to. She would ruin him like she had ruined the last one. She would make sure he lasted a long time. More time for fun.

There was suddenly a sound from behind her, and she spun lightning fast. There was an unfamiliar man in the doorway. He looked angry. That was bad. But he also looked weak, he could join them. She didn't care how he got there – or what for – but she was already fantasizing about what fun she could have with the both of them.

*****xxxxx*****

Athos had tried to wait for Porthos to return but it had been far too long. It took an unreasonable amount of time to find this cottage on the other side of the woods, but it had been as fast as his head would currently allow.

He had barely walked in the door before the idyllic facade had been shattered by a blood splattered floor and the muffled sound of screaming from the floor above.

Aramis.

He wanted to run towards the sound, to kill whoever had caused it. But he couldn't, he had no idea what was happening and he couldn't be certain of victory in a sword fight in his condition.

So instead he crept upstairs slowly, unnoticed until a stumble at the door gave him away to a woman standing in the room.

She spun, looking like a frightened rabbit.

"Who are you?" She asked "Are you one of his men?" She backed away as she spoke, eyes darting around the room.

"Calm down, whose men?"

"I.. I don't know his name but he attacked us suddenly... He locked us down in the cellar for so long – he killed all the others, the three of us are the only ones left" She gestured to Aramis and an unconscious woman on the floor. "– You have to help!"

The only ones left. Porthos and D'Artagnan...

"I am here to help, I promise. That man, he is my friend – may I see him?"

"Of course" She sniffed, and shuffled out of Athos' way.

Aramis lay panting and pale on the bed – blood covering the his side and staining the sheets.

"Aramis, can you hear me?"

There was no response from the injured musketeer and Aramis just continued to gulp in short rapid breaths.

There was a cough from the woman lying on the floor and Athos glanced back at her briefly but focused his attention on his friend.

"Aramis. Calm down, you have to breathe slowly."

Again there was no response, Aramis didn't seem to hear or see Athos in the room.

"Monsieur!"

A cry from the previously unconscious woman which he ignored for the moment while trying to get through to Aramis.

"Monsiuer!"

The next cry was followed by a short cut-off scream and Athos turned around just in time to catch the woman as she fell.

He took in a few things in the next moment. The first being the shocked look upon the first woman's face. The second being the sudden arrival of Porthos and D'Artagnan (alive, thank God) in the doorway. The third being the knife protruding from the chest of the woman he now held in his arms.

For a number of impossibly long seconds nobody moved and there was no sound but for Aramis' continued gasps now joined by the choking of the dying woman, and the pounding of blood in Athos' ears.

Liney break do daa, liney break day, my oh my what a wonderful day

**Okay wow, so I just won't give these people a break will I? Sorry about the lateness and the rushedness (that is a word shut up) of this chapter. In the middle of writing my entry for the fête des mousquetaire competition and a new AU fanfic and about ten pieces of coursework... Oh the coursework. With the tables and the diagrams and the labels and the stupid word crashing because of compatibility and okay I'll stop now...**

**But yeah, you can almost expect my upload rate to decrease with the amount of work I'm getting but that would be pretty much impossible. SO that must mean it will increase on account of logic, and unicorns, and possibly... shrimp?**

**Please review **** My ego only has 16% battery left and so it needs to be re-charged.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Turns out trying to juggle coursework, revision, two fanfics, archery and... laziness... doesn't work out too well! **_**Still**_** not as bad as when I was gone for 6 months (**_**months). **_**I have given up on the Torchwood AU when it refused to be written... However I am now writing a zombie apocalypse AU, albeit very slowly , but I now see that prompty thing will have to come after this story is finished. ..**

**Eugh, anyway, enjoy **** (or not though I have been very evil)**

* * *

"I... I didn't mean that!"

"No." Porthos growled. "You just meant to kill Athos."

"What have I done, Xavier will kill me, he'll kill me, Oh God."

"I don't think you have to worry about him." D'Artagnan said, rather unhelpfully.

"What? What did you do to him is he alright where is he?!"

Her words all flowed into one another leaving a barely coherent stream of mumblings.

"Athos?" Porthos questioned hesitantly.

"She's dead." He replied simply – not taking his eyes off the woman in his arms.

"Hm. Aramis?"

"I don't know. His breathing's too fast."

Still seemingly reluctant to release the body of the woman Athos remained where he was except for an awkward shuffle to allow Porthos past to the bed.

"Aramis, I'm here now, alright? Sorry I'm a bit late but it's alright, yeah?"

"An... she..."

"Shhh, it's alright." Porthos rather unsubtly dodged around the issue of the doctor, not wanting to panic Aramis more considering his condition. He was in bad shape. Seriously bad. And now with the absence of a trained doctor it would be down to them – stranded as they were in the middle of nowhere. She had really picked the most inconvenient time to die. Porthos immediately hated himself for that thought.

He knew that he was probably slightly in shock at the moment about the woman's death. Antoinette had been nothing but helpful to them – she had saved Athos' life, half dragged Porthos to the house, she was prepared to shoot her own brother to save them. Now she was dead just like that. But they all had to hold it together at least long enough to save Aramis and get out of there. They had plenty of time to think about... all of this, afterwards.

There was nothing they could do for her now.

*****xxxxx*****

"Is the knife hot enough?!"

"I don' t know – how can I tell?"

"Is it glowing white?"

"It's glowing..."

"D'Artagnan – is the knife hot enough?!"

"Yes."

"Then bring it here, quickly!"

Aramis screamed as Athos continued to apply pressure to the newly cleaned wound.

"Hurry up!"

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry."

"Porthos?"

"Yes"

"Have you got the salve and bandages ready?"

"I think so."

"You think?!"

Aramis screamed again, if possible louder than before, when the knife was pressed to his skin."

"If I followed the book right then yes."

"If?! Porthos – Aramis' life is at stake, is it ready?"

The smell of burning flesh drifted through the air and Athos pulled the knife away – shoving his hand out to D'Artagnan to re-heat it before cauterizing the wound on Aramis' back.

"Yes."

"Are you sure or do you just 'think so'?!"

"I'm sure!"

"Athos?"

"What?!"

"The knife's hot enough now."

"Porthos, help me turn him over."

Porthos did so wordlessly, ignoring Aramis' colourful protests.

Aramis screamed. This was not ignored by any of the three despite futile attempts.

"Alright, bring the salve."

D'Artagnan took the knife back of plunged in the bucket of water they had brought for that purpose, the hiss drowned out by Aramis' continued screams.

Porthos handed the prepared salve to Athos calmly.

"How do we do this?"

"What do you mean?"

"It needs to be applied to both wounds on his front and back – and the bandage needs to be wrapped."

"Yes?"

"How do we do that while he's lying down?"

"Help me get him sitting up then."

"That'll hurt him."

"And what have we just been doing?"

"Alright."

"Hold him still."

"Alright."

"This will help him."

"I know."

"Alright, then"

*****xxxxx*****

With Aramis' wounds cauterized and dressed, Athos almost collapsed immediately but a look at Porthos' face was enough to keep him upright knowing that the other man would be unable to catch him should he fall.

"Athos?" D'Artagnan asked timidly.

"Yes?"

"Will he live?"

"He lost a lot of blood."

"Will he live?"

"Aramis is strong."

"Athos."

"If he can avoid infection but that is unlikely. He was left too long before being treated."

D'Artagnan was stunned – that much was clear in his face. Athos supposed that he hadn't been prepared to be answered so bluntly. After all, Athos had only just admitted it to himself. Only just admitted that, despite their desperate efforts, one of his best friends would most likely die. They had got ridiculously lucky in the ambush – Porthos' wound was basically a deep graze, his own the same and they had all been treated quickly before they had lost too much blood and before infection could set in. How long had Aramis been left with that wound?

D'Artagnan had explained to some extent what had happened after him and Aramis left the camp. The woman, Antoinette, the doctor who had saved Athos' life, was the sister of a homicidal maniac intent on murdering for the sheer fun of it, it seemed. And his mistress was currently tied up and gagged in the adjacent room. She was difficult to work out – an excellent deceiver when the situation called but barely able to string a sentence together otherwise. She spent so much time being other people that she had forgotten who she was. And she of course was hell bent on death and torture even more so than the late Xavier. He wondered briefly if she was truly beyond salvation, supposedly all can find absolution through confession but this woman... She would have to take her mind off torturing innocent people long enough to confess at all which would be an arduous task for her.

Well, let the king decide her sentence – she would no doubt be hanged for her crimes whether she was repentant or not. Athos was surprised to find himself saddened by this thought. He just felt that after all the death – Antoinette, her brother, and his countless victims, and soon Aramis – that the world could do without more. He had long doubted the logic of capital punishment for any crime, it just seemed so... foolish, to believe that the solution to murder was more murder. Two wrongs don't make a right – this was what you told young children so that they would learn morals, how quickly they must forget.

These thoughts, being so morbid as they were, failed quite wonderfully in their original purpose. Distraction. Because now he could think of nothing else but what he was trying so desperately not to believe. Aramis was most likely going to die and there was little they could do but wait for it to happen. Wait, and hope.

* * *

**"All human wisdom is summed up in two words; wait and hope." - Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo.**

**Those words are also, coincidentally, the title of my new zombie apocalypse AU which will soon (soon according to me) be uploaded on AO3. I may post it here as well but I plan to include pictures in each chapter so I will more likely post a link when it's uploaded.**

**They just fit too well in both scenarios.**

**Anyway hope you enjoyed, sorry for the wait, and I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas/holiday/winter solstice/average week. Please review (it'll be like a late Christmas present to me :D)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Another chapter so quickly? Has a parasitic life-form from space sucked by brains out through my ears and hijacked my body you ask? No! Of course not! *cough* bowtothesuprememightofouralienoverlords *cough***

**Enjoy **

* * *

"His friends!" D'Artagnan exclaimed, sitting up straight quickly and then immediately hunching over his broken arm as both it and his back protested at his sudden movement.

"What?" Athos asked, briefly glancing up.

"Xavier – there were other people with him down by the river, four shots at the same time."

"Well they're not here now."

"Shouldn't we do something about it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Well what do you propose we do?"

"I don't know, we -"

"We wait, when Aramis is well enough to return to Paris and inform the captain of what transpired here."

"Right."

They would be able to leave when Aramis was well enough. _When. _So despite his earlier talk Athos was at least still adamant that their friend would recover in time.

"Porthos, how is he looking?" Athos asked.

"Hm. No sign of infection thank God, but he doesn't show any signs of waking either."

"There was a lot of stress on his body; he just needs rest to recover."

"He'll need food and water soon enough."

Athos didn't reply. D'Artagnan knew what Porthos said was true – if Aramis didn't wake up in the next day or so it was likely that he never would. As it was he was up against insurmountable odds. It was so unfair – why couldn't luck be on his side again like every other time? Aramis had dodged death many times before just through sheer luck – maybe he had charmed The Lady like every other woman he came across. This was a rather amusing thought, as luck was always portrayed as a woman it seemed so like Aramis to charm her to his side. Huh, well why couldn't he have done that this time? _And why can't horses fly? _The treacherous voice in his head countered.

Everyone ran out of luck, ran out of sand in their sand timer – but this didn't feel right. Not here, not now. Aramis did not die now.

He heard quiet mumbling across the room and looked up to see Porthos and Athos quietly talking. Their words were inaudible but he could see Porthos fighting back tears. Without warning Athos stood and left the room. Porthos watched him go sadly.

"What was that about?"

Porthos cleared his throat before answering.

"He's just gone to check on the girl."

"Right." D'Artagnan didn't believe this was true for a second. Athos may well be checking on their prisoner but that was not his reason for leaving, merely an excuse.

"Porthos, what will we do?"

"Huh?"

"If, _if, _he dies. What do we do?"

"He won't."

"_If."_

"_He won't. _And you talking like that isn't going to help."

"Neither is blindly ignoring reality."

Porthos stood abruptly, his chair legs screeching on the wooden floor with a sound that sent shivers down D'Artagnan's spine. He stood there for a moment as if uncertain whether to sit back down or storm out like Athos did. Instead of either, Porthos went towards the bed where Aramis lay, still too still.

"We were all worried about Athos before and he made it. Thought he wouldn't wake up but he did. Because we don't go down that easily." Porthos said quietly. "And Aramis knows I'd kill him if he did something as stupid as dying."

There was an awkward silence for a while longer where neither man moved except for Porthos reassuring himself that Aramis still breathed every few minutes.

"Damn it!" Porthos yelled, shattering the silence quite spectacularly and _not (not!) _making D'Artagnan jump.

"What are we going to do, Porthos?"

"I don't know."

* * *

**I know, I know – it was very short. But this chapter kind of had to end there and it's just a little interim while they wait for Aramis to wake up and the unicorns to bring them their pixie dust so they can all fly away on rainbows. Because realism.**

**Your New Years resolution should be to review more :) Please? :p**


	24. Chapter 24

**I think holidays are good for me, I should definitely have more. Like infinitely more. Or just anything that will combat the fact that I have an essay on the pros and cons of development in Dharavi due in a week's time.**

**But as usual in the spirit of procrastination I have opted for a different kind of writing instead, so you could say you have Geography to thank for the new (incredibly short) chapter, enjoy **

* * *

The girl was asleep.

Athos wouldn't say he was entirely shocked by this, considering this particular prisoner's erratic behaviour but it certainly went against expectations. She seemed to have made no efforts to escape, and his inspection confirmed that she was indeed sleeping – not planning a trap or, more extremely, dead.

Well.

That meant he could return now, there was no point in continuing to watch her. Why was it that despite all he knew she had done his brain rebelled at the image of a defenceless young girl tied up in the empty room? She was a murderer and a liar; she deserved everything coming to her.

So he could return now. To the silent room where hope was carefully hidden so as to not seem naive. Where Porthos had acted like Aramis was already dead while still containing what must be futile _hope._

Athos hoped, of course. He hid it better. Hid it from himself.

If Aramis had been shot cleanly through the head on a battlefield that would be it. Many men were, day after day, but when there was still breath left in the body they fought for every next one. Why? Why accept the quick hopeless deaths and despair over the living who yet had hope to stay that way? Hope was not a comfort but a curse.

No, not always. The balance must be right. Every day all you have is hope that you will make to the sunset alive, but it is so strong that you call it by another name – belief, assurance, assumption. When nights are dark and dawns uncertain, that is when you call that glimmer of light under the door hope. Hope implies that it is a million to one chance, _but_ _it might just work.*_

And that was the crux of the matter, however slim their hopes may be they still existed and while they still existed, they could not give up on their friends. There was an idea that for every eventuality a separate universe existed and if that was the case then Athos knew which one he would stay in. This one. This, the one universe in a million where Aramis survived.

He could return now, he had been gone long enough and his two conscious friends would no doubt be at each other's throats already.

* * *

**So I wasn't lying when I said it was short, but it's also really soon so makes up for it? :D**

**I just had the thought that we saw Porthos and D'Artagnan waiting for Aramis to wake up but not Athos because he left.**

**Please review, they can be extremely short seeing as my chapter was **

***It's a million to one chance, _but_ _it might just work. - _Terry Pratchett (kind of)**


	25. Chapter 25

**I really need to stop with all of these long breaks...**

**(also, miraculous recoveries do occur because realism is all well and good but... Aramis!)**

**Enjoy?**

* * *

"Aramis won' give up."

"I know."

"Yeah, he knows how he'd feel if it were one of us – wouldn't put us through that."

"I know, Porthos."

"'Sides. Worst has passed now, right? It's just a matter of waiting. Of 'when'."

"I - "

"Not 'if'. Nah, it was never an 'if'. And now, now he's fine but he won't wake up."

"He will, Porthos."

"Seen the same happen before."

D'Artagnan tactfully remained silent.

"There was this guy, don't even remember his name – might never have known it, he was shot by the Red Guard, trying to steal food for his family."

Porthos paused, sniffed, glanced over at Aramis nervously like he had every ten seconds.

"But he was fine, should have been, 'cept he was lying there for a while, lost a lot of blood. Didn't hit anything vital he was just bleeding, in the street. Must have been hours at least before people stopped being scared long enough to try to help him. He was unconscious when they took him home, we were all so sure he would be fine when he woke up. Me and Flea visited the family for a few days but when he didn't wake up, and they couldn't feed him or get him to drink anything. He just died without waking up from what should've just been a flesh wound. Happened a couple more times since I joined the Musketeers. When a man's unconscious so long, it's like their mind forgets how to wake up."

"Aramis is over the worst. His wound is healing and there is no sign of infection. We should be glad of that and simply wait."

"There was only one the same who did wake up that I know. A Musketeer."

"Well that' something."

"No, when he woke up he... wasn't himself. Couldn't remember who he was, could barely speak. Couldn't even walk."

"What happened to him?"

"No idea. He left the musketeers. Well, wasn't really his choice. Last I heard he's in a small cottage with his wife and daughter surviving on a soldier's pension."

"Porthos..."

"I know what you're going to say. He survived. Small mercies and all."

"Porthos."

Porthos turned, having not checked on Aramis recently due to being caught up in his own memories.

Aramis' eyes were open, blinking sluggishly.

"Aramis! Aramis look at me. Are you alright? Aramis?"

Porthos rushed to the bedside and crouched beside Aramis.

"What?" Aramis asked slowly, as if having difficulty finding the word.

"Aramis, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Aramis didn't even look at Porthos, his eyes wandering around the room, frowning.

"Aramis!"

"Who...?"

"Aramis, it's Porthos – you're safe."

"Who... who's Armis?"

"No, Aramis. You're okay, come on."

Aramis' eyes had closed again.

* * *

**Well, another one incredibly short. I am going to make an unbreakable vow right now. Next chapter will be 2000 words or more (ANs not included) and will be posted at least before the end of the month. (can't promise any more than that on time, quite busy at the moment.)**

**As always, please review. Too much magic unicorns with Aramis? Tell me what you think :)**


	26. Chapter 26

Weeeeeellllllllll. One out of two... (praise the leap day)

(Thank you everyone so much for the reviews, follows and favourites - Over 100 reviews and follows now . )

Enjoy

* * *

"What happened?" Athos asked with a raised eyebrow as he returned to the room. His bored tone betrayed by the red marks left on his palms by his nails.

"Aramis woke up." D'Artagnan happily reported. "He's going to be alright."

"Athos." Porthos said in a warning tone. "He didn't even know his own name, didn't recognise me."

"Pretre."

Porthos nodded.

"We shall wait until he next wakes. Perhaps then he will be more lucid."

Porthos nodded again.

"Yeah." He agreed. "Just the shock is all. He'll be fine."

"Of course."

"Got anything to say this time, D'Artagnan?" Porthos snapped.

"No... I... apologise. I merely thought we should be... realistic."

"If that's your idea of reality count me out."

"I'm sorry. What more do you want me to say?"

There was an uncomfortable silence for a heartbeat to long before it was interrupted by Athos.

"D'Artagnan. It is time you thought about your own injuries."

"There's not much you can do for them."

"Is that a way of avoiding the inevitable, D'Artagnan? That broken arm has been left too long – it may have to be re-broken to be set correctly."

"Hm. Alright. Do it."

"Now?"

"Just get it over with."

"Porthos?"

Porthos wandered up behind D'Artagnan and grabbed his shoulders, gently steering him towards a chair.

"Alright."

Athos took a deep breath before utilizing the tried and tested method of yank, and snap.

He winced heavily at D'Artagnan's scream but managed to dodge the kick aimed at his face.

"We just need to set that properly, and then we can check that your back is not infected."

D'Artagnan looked up at incredulously at Athos' casual tone.

"There there." Porthos teased, patting D'Artagnan's good shoulder.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

D'Artagnan shuffled uncomfortable in his seat. His arm still throbbed, though it was properly set and supported in a neatly tied sling, and the dressings on his back made it near impossible to find an agreeable seating position.

Athos and Porthos had gone out together to fetch more water, after all Xavier's men could still be out there, so D'Artagnan was alone with the still unconscious Aramis.

"What?"

The again.

"Aramis, you're safe. Athos and Porthos found us – everything's fine."

"Who're you?"

"It's D'Artagnan... Aramis – what do you remember?"

"I don't..."

"It's alright, take your time."

"Where?"

"Still at the cottage, but it's alright."

"What? I don't..."

"If you want water you'll have to wait – Porthos and Athos have gone to get some."

"Who?"

D'Artagnan didn't know what to say, or do. This was completely different to Athos – he thought that only head injuries could cause loss of memory like this but Athos had awoken completely aware and Aramis didn't even seem to know his own name.

"D'Artagnan?" Porthos entered the room with Athos – carrying the bucket of water between them.

"Aramis – you're awake!"

"Why're you calling me that?"

Athos and Porthos looked at each other briefly, put down the water and moved to Aramis' bedside.

"Rene." Athos tried.

"How do you know me? Who are you?"

"We are the king's Musketeers."

"What?"

"Soldiers." Porthos explained.

"You were injured. But you're safe now, Rene."

"Isabelle?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I was with a girl – is she safe?"

"Yes she's fine." Athos clenched his teeth at the lie. Aramis obviously had cared deeply about this girl. "We sent her home."

"Good."

"Rene, what is the last thing you remember?"

"I was with Isabelle. She... she had to tell me something."

"What?"

"I don't know. That's all I remember."

"Thank you, Rene. You can sleep now but drink some water first."

Aramis did so, taking the offered cup of water that D'Artagnan had filled from the bucket.

"Why were you calling me Aramis, before?"

Athos stumbled at this and looked to Porthos for help, but found none.

It didn't matter, however, because Aramis was asleep again - the empty cup clattering to the floor.

"Why did you lie to him?" D'Artagnan asked.

"He's forgotten a considerable amount. He wasn't ready to hear the truth and would likely have not believed us."

"He'll be fine soon. Just needs time." Porthos insisted for what felt like the hundredth time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Aramis?" Athos asked tentatively upon seeing Aramis' eyes open again.

"That name again?"

"You remember when you last woke?"

"Yes, why?"

"Aramis, - "

"My name is Rene."

"It was."

"What?"

"Aramis... You've lost your memories."

"That is not my name, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Yes I know, your name is Rene D'Herblay – but you are now known as Aramis of the king's Musketeers."

"You mentioned that before – what does it mean?"

"The Musketeers? It's a regiment of elite soldiers – of which you are proud to call yourself a member."

"Why would I be a soldier? I am to be married soon – my fiancé is with child."

"Yes... Things changed."

"What things? If you won't explain yourself why should I believe you?"

"Because you have to. It's your life, your story to tell. Don't make me teach you your own life."

"Who are you?"

"Your friend."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Aramis?" Porthos asked hopefully.

"Not my name, Porthos." Aramis muttered but only half-heartedly.

"It is."

"What've you got there, then?"

"Rabbit stew. D'Artagnan caught it."

Aramis looked at him quizzically.

"The grumpy one."

This didn't seem to clarify things much.

"The younger grumpy one."

"Right. Give it here then."

"Who said it was for you?"

"Ha ha – deprive the invalid of food why don't you?"

Porthos sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just... Easy to think that's everything's back to normal – that we're friends again."

"We _are _friends."

"No, Aramis is my friend. I've barely known _you_ a week."

The hurt expression on Aramis' face made Porthos instantly regret his words.

"You're the only friend I have, Porthos." He said, solemnly accepting the stew and eating in uncomfortable silence.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"How come he always remembers your name?"

"I talk to him the most." Porthos explained, trying to keep the note of blame from his voice.

"And Athos and I are just interchangeable?"

"How's the girl?"

"Silent."

"Still?"

"Still."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Aramis?"

"I remember why I became a soldier..."

"Aramis?"

"Isabelle lost the child. Huh, that's an odd turn of phrase – like she was responsible for... misplacing our baby. Her father sent her to a convent and refused to tell me where she was. There was nothing left for me at home."

"What else do you remember?"

"Not much. I still don't remember any of you."

"And I thought I was so memorable." Athos quipped.

"I'm sure you are."

Aramis went silent in the contemplative, melancholy way that was so familiar to Athos, as his friend. They knew Aramis as better than they knew themselves, and he didn't even remember ever meeting them. But he would recover – that much was clear. He just needed time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Aramis awoke to screaming from the adjacent room. A woman.

It reminded him of a time when he was a new to the musketeers and he raced in the direction of a woman's screams – despite pleas to wait for backup from Marsac – and the attacker had jumped him as he raced down an alley. Marsac had been right, he couldn't' take the man by himself. He truly thought he was going to die. And he would have, too, if Captain Treville's newest recruit hadn't also taken the same foolish action as him, turning up a few moments after Aramis himself just in time to stop the criminal from smashing his head a third time against the wall.

Aramis ended up with a concussion, but also with his life. He found new respect for the often ostracised recruit from the Court of Miracles, and while they hadn't become true friends, they did develop a mutual trust on missions and around the garrison.

That was Porthos. Apparently they had become much closer since – he remembered Marsac had shared the rest of the garrison's wary attitude towards Porthos, maybe they fell out over that which pushed Porthos and him closer together.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"What's wrong with her?" Porthos asked as he stared and the pale, shivering woman still tied in the corner.

"Seems like..."

"What?"

"Withdrawal."

"You think... opium?"

"Have her actions so far seemed those of a sane woman?"

"Of course not. But that can't be the only cause."

"No, I am not so naive as to think she will suddenly become a mild mannered lady when she is through this but... I do not believe her totally undeserving of our sympathy."

"Maybe you're right, Athos, but when I look at her I see he part she had in hurting Aramis, and D'Artagnan. And you think the king will show her mercy on claims of insanity?"

"No. She will be hanged for sure."

With this Athos left the room.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Porthos?"

"Just a second, Aramis!"

"Porthos, please. I have been lying here for too long – let me walk around the room at least."

"Aramis, we talked about this."

"I know, I know. But I'm bored, and the faster I can walk, the faster we can return to Parris."

"Aramis..."

"When D'Artagnan arrived at the garrison he challenged Athos to a duel for the murder of his father – we proved that Gaudet had been framing him to discredit the musketeers."

"Aramis..."

"The morning after your birthday you woke up next to a dead body and were kidnapped by your friends from the Court of Miracles while we worked to prove your innocence. I killed you childhood friend!"

"Aramis!"

"Just... Just let me try, please."

"Alright. Alright..."

"Porthos I'm sorry, I just can't take this anymore."

"It's fine." Porthos faked a smile.

* * *

Ta... da?


	27. Chapter 27

Hear me out, okay? I am evil I know, but I underestimated the amount of work involved in exams. I have a brief respite currently so with that comes a new chapter. Regrettably short, as is my wont, but here nonetheless.

So, optimistically, enjoy

* * *

"Okay okay, lean on me" Porthos mumbled, supporting almost Aramis' full weight as the barely recovered musketeer struggled out of bed.

Aramis grunted in pain as his legs protested having been in the same position for too long.

"You alright?" Porthos queried.

"Fine, fine." Aramis assured him quickly. "A lot easier than last time. But I meant it when I said I wanted to walk on my own, Porthos."

Porthos opened his mouth to speak but Aramis silenced him with a glare.

"No, Porthos. The wound is healed, I am perfectly well – the only reasons it's so damn hard is because you've kept me in this room, on that bed, like a prisoner!"

"I'm sor-"

"Don't." Aramis cut him off again. "Don't apologise – You saved my life, looked after me while I was recovering, and I thank you... but I don't need you hovering over me like some sort of... of..." Aramis couldn't think of a word and was floundering so he just sighed and turned his head away.

Porthos, perhaps in a temporary fit of insanity, stepped away from Aramis completely. In doing so he removed all support he had been giving his friend to stand and had an odd sense of satisfaction when Aramis stumbled and almost fell – just catching himself with a hand on the table beside him.

Aramis' only reaction further than this was to nod slightly in Porthos' direction and push himself away from the table - walking to the door. Having the courtesy to hesitate for a moment in the doorway he half turned his head as if to look at Porthos behind him but thought better of it and stormed out as best he could on shaky legs.

Porthos watched him go with an impassive expression. Aramis wouldn't get far. He needed Porthos. He'd see.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Where's Aramis?" D'Artagnan asked with a frown upon entering the room.

"You didn't pass 'im?"

"You mean he left?" D'Artagnan raised an eyebrow in surprise. "On his own? I'm surprised."

"Why?" Porthos snapped, a little unfairly.

"Well you've been a bit -" D'Artagnan flailed his hand vaguely as he tried and failed to find the right word. "-Lately."

"A bit – ?" Porthos mimicked D'Artagnan's hand movements in an exaggerated fashion. "I am sorry for trying to look after my friend who was... who almost." Porthos' annoyed tone broke slightly at the end of the sentence and he turned away from D'Artagnan – suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

"Aramis survived, Porthos. He's going to be fine. We all are."

D'Artagnan caught a strangled sob from the otherwise silent Porthos.

"We're alright." D'Artagnan repeated, moving closer to put his arm around Porthos shoulder. "We're alright."

They stayed like that for some time before a sound from the doorway caught D'Artagnan's attention and he turned to see Athos standing there unmoving. He saw he'd been noticed and quickly turned around – walking back away from the room as if he somehow wasn't welcome.

D'Artagnan sighed, and patted Porthos absent-mindedly on the shoulder before following after him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

D'Artagnan caught up to Athos just outside the room where they still kept the girl tied up.

"Athos."

Athos turned but didn't saying anything – presumably waiting for D'Artagnan to speak.

"I... uh..." D'Artagnan was at a loss. He realised that he hadn't thought this far ahead.

"I thought you and Porthos might need a moment alone. He has been rather..." Athos paused and opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing lightly. "... Lately."

"It's not that, Athos. It's just..."

"What?"

Though only one syllable, Athos managed to make the question sound like a challenge.

"Right..." D'Artagnan swallowed nervously as he prepared what he was going to say. After much deliberation and a long awkward silence he decided that directness would have to be the best approach. "You need to stop talking to the girl, Athos. She is a sadist and a murderer – Antoinette is dead because of her - she will hang for her crimes and it will be justice well served."

"She is still human." Athos said.

And that was all, apparently, as he walked into the room and left D'Artagnan standing there, agape.

* * *

Well there we go... Hopefully enough for you to ponder for a short while. I really will try and get the next chapter up as soon as I can.

Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me, please refuel me with your review-juice XD


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